The Beaten Woman Poem by Melody Morningstar
The Beaten Woman
A cry in the night
Tumbles from her lips
Like water out
Of a broken vase
She gathers herself
into a tiny ball
and hides from the world
Her pain is real
Her helplessness felt
by all who see
The man who strikes
He strikes her cheek
He cracks her rib
With a blow from his fist
He curses her existence
She curses her mistake
Her child cries in the night
Everyone to blame
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 1:35:15 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This is an amazing indictment of American life, Melody. Painful, but what an insightful poem.