Posted in Luc-Bat

No Safe Haven

INDIA-POLITICS-RAPE-PROTEST

The ocean roughly kissed
her lips and in the mist she felt
tiny grains of sand pelt
hard against the old welt, a scar
from days she thought were far
away but still could mar her days.
Enveloped in a haze,
she ran in varied ways to slip
from pains which held their grip
but on this pointless trip persist.

© Susan Schoeffield

Written for Day 2 of the Poetic Asides April 2014 PAD Challenge to write a “voyage” poem.

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