The Gauntlet, Again - Poem by Robert Sheridan
Once again, stripped of my dignity
Once more, had to pass between
a double row of cudgeling, non-
forgiving females who beat me to
a bloody pulp...
Also known as die Gasse or the
Alley, a sub-human life form walked
in front of me with a rusty, jagged knife
to prevent me from begging for mercy
on my knees...
Me, or better known as the condemned
was prodded along by a pursuer while
being dragged through broken promises
with a hangman's noose around my neck
Hands were tied...
Sharp words cut deeper than edged weapons
The un-femme fatales weren't required to keep
one foot in place - made it a point to kick me
so many times in the a-hole, I was unable
to walk erect...
The Gauntlet, Again is, in effect exposure
to cutting ridicule, the same as being in a
pillory, a pranger, or the stocks - all of them
expecting you to 'Take it Like a Man'; here
come the knittles...
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