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THE GIRL : SONNET 177

A girl, as young as twelve, was raped by brutes,
Away from home, in a town where none knew her,
And none came out, if all were in cahoots,
To help her, as her screams did bang each door.
The sinless girl, and reasonless to think,
But those were not her parents, brothers, sisters 
To nurse her wound and give her food and drink,
But, say, nonhumans sole, sans rue or remorse.
And she was wailing, bleeding, naked mostly, 
And begg'd for help, from street to street, for long,
Till fell dead, yet none came to show her mercy,
Here, happy move those who on her did wrong!
What else could in this country be expected, 
Where prostitutes, porn stars are celebrated?

 -- N P Samal 

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