This Heartbreaking Poem About Why Being A Rape Victim Is A Crime Will Not Leave Your Thoughts

Anonymous Anonymous in Stolen Diaries on 30 January, 2017

The Hapless Crime of Being A Victim


It was a very dark night
With no one to listen to her plight
She looked for mercy, but found wanton eyes filled with lustful delight.

She saw her life flash before her eyes

Her fright scaled new heights 
It was horrendous feelings 
Full of pain and hurt

Alas it was all over: the face of her family suddenly dazzled in her mind, clear and bright.

The perceived guilt-ridden existence weighed her like an anchor weighs a ship
The assailants had left her alive 
but scarred her for life. 
She dreaded the society more than her present trauma, for she may recover from the second  

It is the first one which will haunt her for life.

This post was submitted by Agnimitra.

Author's Note:

This poem was written 3 and a half years ago, after the news broke out about the Nirbhaya case. I was aghast and sad to read the barbaric crime committed by those senseless people. I've written this poem imagining how a girl must feel against whom this crime is committed. The one who goes through this. I can't really begin to gauge the pain that has been experienced by the countless women, but this was my effort just to scratch the surface of it.

The biggest crime is to name and shame the victim of sexual assaults whereas perpetrators and their identity are kept safe. This sends out a message to the society where such behaviour is normalised. It should outrightly be called out for what it is. Women who go through this trauma suffer for a long long time and have to move away from the city or their jobs, but it shouldn't be like that.

Please don't associate the dignity of a woman with such crimes. It wasn't her choice to get sexually assaulted and it would be better for people around her to be provided with a safe environment where instead of judgements, she'd get love and care.

Editor's Note:

What the author says is why you should share her poem