Am I Next?

I read a story today

About a little girl who did not make it home from school.

Ransomed for a price as though a value would ever pay for a life.

I wondered if she was scared or maybe cold

If she had her favourite teddy to keep her company while the boogeyman loomes.

And all they asked was, Why was she at school don’t you know that little girls belong in the kitchen?


I heard a story  an hour ago,

About a young woman who did come home from the post office.

Bludgeoned to death by a monster in his lust.

Her crime was bearing the female genitalia, hips and breasts.

I wondered if she was at peace away from a world that saw her as unworthy

The men in blue asked…

What was she wearing? Did he lead him on?


I saw a story on the news a minute ago,

About a mother who did not make it home to her children.

Left dead on the side of the road as though she was a bag of trash.

I wondered if she got a chance to kiss her children goodbye or how long the waited for her return till morning light.

All they asked was, did she provoke him? What was she doing driving by herself?


I read a story a few seconds ago

About a woman who got into a taxi to work..

As I paid my fare, I wondered if  I was next….If I was tomorrow’s headline…..

If they would ask, Why was I a woman?



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