#metoo Poem by Trevor Valentine

In the last few weeks and months, the truth has continued to creep out. The demise of Epstein, Weinstein, Harris, even our own precious royal family are subject to allegations. All following the strength from the #metoo campaign, and the paradoxical epitaph of Savile. Survivors are now more likely to be believed. Gone seem the days when the Telegraph gave the whole of its front page to a bird house bought through greed and easy expenses. Whilst at the exact same time, what wasn't redacted in a report into the abuse metered out by catholic priests, was buried in an almost hidden 30 word footnote. At least it made the front page.

Most families have been subjected to abuse, because it takes many many forms; sexual, coercive, domestic, physical, to name but a few; some more insipid than others, but still abuse, all the same. The sad reality is that everyone has more than likely suffered abuse in at least one of these forms. And abuse is life changing. It is often a life sentence.

Abusers and paedophiles, they will always exist. But, our quest, each one of us, is always resting on one grain of sand - if you can help protect even just one person and especially a child, the world would be a much richer and safer place.

This poem pulls no punches. It wasn't meant to.