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Ill rip out your eyeballs as ornaments for my ears, and inflict on you the nightmares that you dished out for years. You will live in my dungeon and feed on dry bread while I feast at a table close to your head. And for every birthday I'll cut off one finger and leave it to rot so the smell of it lingers. You will keep your tongue for the names you'll recite of the ones that you hurt and treated with spite. And the day that the terror expires your life I'll hang you on a lamp pole on the highway in full sight. And you will be remembered as a pathetic soul who picked on gentle women you tried to control. And justice will rise like a bright morning sun, A coward is dead and his abusing is done.
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Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 10:44 PM UTC
A Sonnet for Abusive Men
Ill rip out your eyeballs as ornaments for my ears, and inflict on you the nightmares that you dished out for years. You will live in my dungeon and feed on dry bread while I feast at a table close to your head. And for every birthday I'll cut off one finger and leave it to rot so the smell of it lingers. You will keep your tongue for the names you'll recite of the ones that you hurt and treated with spite. And the day that the terror expires your life I'll hang you on a lamp pole on the highway in full sight. And you will be remembered as a pathetic soul who picked on gentle women you tried to control. And justice will rise like a bright morning sun, A coward is dead and his abusing is done.
The imagery in this poem may be disturbing
cry-sebastian
Written by
South African
Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 10:44 PM UTC
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