Dear President Weah

Dear President Weah, It is difficult to paint a picture But let me paint a picture of a girl, A girl whose heart is loosely clustered Darkness is her cousin A cousin who comes devouring her beautiful skin A girl whose tears could probably make an ocean She wears a broken smile A smile that kisses her goodbye And her legs are witnesses of pains Her body is an unsafe home Every time she looks at herself The only trademark she sees is "Rape" Her body is a precious bank But the bank is being looted by armed rapists Yet the government sleeps on the case Her mind is a total crash Crashing from constant flashbacks Isn't rape a crime? Let's face reality, Is "Rape" a new religion Or a beauty queen whose appearance is embraced by unwanted souls? Should we say "Liberia" or "Liberape?" Cause this girl resides at the graveyard, And many are yet to join the league She is a prisoner A prisoner in her own skin Her cerebrum, cerebellum and medulla are malfunctioning Dear President Weah, Leave the dark alone And make love with the light