Acceptance Poem by chris dawson

Taken to him once again

she stood outside his door,

her face agreed compliantly.

her soul cried out 'no more'.




For though she knew it all too well,

accepted and complied,

now every time her used her so

some of her shame then died.




He pulled her in and closed the door,

she chilled, she sank, she braced,

her very core, her darkened mind

flashed through the blight she faced.




And all alone he stripped her there,

her tongue she bit, again;

she masked his face with clouding tears,

she masked the pain with pain.




He pushed her to that Georgian frame,

the glass so made her gasp,

and held her by the shoulders there,

his fingers marked his grasp.




Her face contorted, pale and spread,

such nakedness exposed,

as all his will now took its course,

beyond eyes tightly closed.




And on command she arched her back,

no more he had to add,

as hands were pressed upon the pane,

she presented, to be had.




Such was the will, but his, not hers,

such was her lost domain,

that each and every want of his

observance could contain.




And so he took that once again,

that was only hers to give,

a memory of emotive film

she never could outlive.







Now don't delude you understand

no matter how you delve,

for you are who you are today,

and she was barely twelve.