I went to this party, with no intentsions at all.
Drink after drink, I started to begin to fall.
Stumbling, feeling lighter within each sip.
Next thing you know I am pinned to the floor, i hear my dress rip.
I remember screaming, but i heard no response to be made.
I remember his squeaky voice reply to me, tonight my object was to get laid.
I feel a hand slowly go down my thigh,
I tried to be strong, but I started to cry.
I could feel him breathing heavy on me.
But through the bluriness, his face i could not see.
He took something special that belonged to me.
My virginity.
I did not give it to him, it was taken against my will.
That last drink i took, haunts me to this day still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The more you write, the better you feel.......for poetry is indeed therapeutic. You keep writing, and I promise to keep reading! Thanks for sharing.