The harmless stone of my clenched fist they do not fear. They are not ashamed, neither are they deterred by the dirt dug up by my fingernails in an attempt to expose and stop them from continuously raping me. Disgusted, I closed my lips and my eyes. But they kept raping me. Their body just kept taking, buying mansions, filling bank accounts and not caring about my emotions. Are they raping my senses too? Does my silence mean yes? Should I keep quiet and pretend as if nothing has happened and is happening to me?
No, I can no longer keep screaming silently on the inside. I have been watching, waiting and staring. They know I could tell they have been raping me by the size of their “security vote”, “sitting allowance”, fat belly, flash mistresses, and cars. Every time I looked behind or reached to pull the window blind, I catch a glimpse of a decaying country. The looting that…
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