Emile Pinet Poet Quatrain

No Chance of Escape

Boko Haram came last night,
to steal a lamb for slaughter.
And began to fondle me,
my father lost his daughter.

As rough hands stripped me naked,
fingers probed private places.
And men without modesty,
took pains to hide their faces.

Chains shackled to my ankles,
my head's covered with a sack.
And I was dragged to a truck,
with hands tied behind my back.

For hours I'm raped and beaten,
along with others in pain.
Then I'm driven to their camp,
where they ravage me again.

Tomorrow, I will be sold
as a sex slave to a man. 
And with no chance of escape,
I'll survive the best I can.


(Quatrain)


6/4/2018

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Line Gauthier June 9, 2018 at 8:06 PM Emile, you have such a gift for telling people's stories through their eyes. It's an amazing gift. Emile Pinet June 10, 2018 at 8:50 AM Thanks so much Line, I appreciate your support my friend, Emile.

Daniel Turner June 4, 2018 at 12:10 PM If this doesn't make one angry, nothing will. Stirring write, Emile. Emile Pinet June 4, 2018 at 2:12 PM Thank you Daniel, I appreciate your support my friend, Emile.