January 2, 20183 min read

This is a poem about a girl that has been raped at a bar that her father took her to. Her mother had a plan for her daughter; she followed this plan until one part of it fell through, and her life came crashing down. This poem was written to raise awareness for rape and all sexual violence in today’s society and also to make any victims of sexual harassment feel less alone.

I always went to bars,

Even though I did not want to

Every time it was my father’s idea.

I hated it, and he knew.

I was sure that you would be proud of me,

Since I always followed our plan,

I always remembered what you said,

And did not talk to any man.

I never gave in,

Like you told me other girls would.

I did not speak to any man,

Though they all said I should.

I knew I was making the right choice, and

Like always, your advice was right.

And one by one,

The men disappeared into the dark night.

But I continued to sit at the bar,

Watching people drink like it was their last feast,

Never knew what was coming,

It was something I expected least.

Now I’m on the bathroom floor,

And I hear my father laugh and say

“I can’t seem to find my daughter.”

Everyone was drunk, and all I could do was pray.

I struggled to stand,

In need of help,

The man grabbed me by my hand,

And pulled me close.

He whispered in my ear,

“You’re mine little lady.”

All I could smell was his beer,

Having control over his mind.

“Please let me go!”

I screamed as loud as possible.

“Keep your voice low,

We can’t have anyone know you’re here.”

He threw me to the ground with all his force,

I felt so helpless,

As he took me through his course.

“I’m only sixteen!”

I screamed, hoping he would stop,

But he loved making me feel worthless.

I’ll never again wear that tank top.

I did not want it.

He knew that,

But he made me commit.

He called me brat.

He made me feel awful.

As he kissed me on my lips

and touched me in ways I did not want,

As he increased the pressure on my hips.

When he decided he was done,

He left me on the floor curled up in a ball, and

I was hoping for someone

To please come help the girl in the bathroom,

That had just been raped.

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Dorothy Walker

I am a young aspiring writer who loves to write mostly poetry and non-fiction pieces. I have been writing since a young age. I love writing because it is a way of expressing myself.