SHE STANDS

BY CORNER GHOST

She stands,
Pain running through her bound hands,
She has to stand completely still,
Knowing to move would cause her ill.
She would move if she could.
But fears for the unforgiving plank of wood.

She cries,
But unable to speak through the gag, that ties
Itself behind her silken hair,
Buckled closely without care,
They had promised her fun,
But now she wants her Mum.

She remembers, just this morning,
When she was taken, without warning,
By the man,
In the white Van,
Until the sting on her arm,
Told her she would meet with harm.

She Awoke,
In this strange place with that bloke,
Her arms tied up and hair disarrayed,
She was naked and afraid,
Whilst he, with great joy,
Showed her what he would employ.

She couldn’t speak,
With that strange thing shaped like a beak,
She could only stand and stare,
At the nasty stuff there,
Until, finally, he did move,
And start the pain he’d put her through.

And now,
She couldn’t move, no matter how,
Her legs, tightly bound,
Kept her feet upon the ground,
The wood, so neatly placed.
To cause her grief upon her secret place.

She screamed,
The pain becoming so obscene,
She knew, it would rip her skin,
And tear her withershins,
The mirrors set reflect a scene,
That some would consider so obscene.

She cries with tears upon her face,
Regretting she was in this place,
While he, with malice and glee,
Watches from his small TV,
He checks the time and then arises,
To start his newest enterprises.

She strains,
To keep her feet and not regain,
The pain that emanates between her legs,
As she settles on the peg,
A noise . . . The one she feared to hear.
A footstep! The man coming near.

And then she sees the handle turn.
And then she starts to shake and squirm,
The door opens to reveal,
The man who will deal
The pain, he says,
She has deserved for many days.

“Hello daughter!”