Premature scars

She sits by the corner

Glued to the wall

With shame stapled on each drop of tear she ever bled

She was always cared of the night time

It always felt like a caravan of skeletons reaching for her soul in the dark

Those nights, when Daddy subtracted her worth like a math equation

A simultaneous action that thought her that innocence was a treasure one would never find

And you could always mine your mind into believing the tempest of fairytales 


Of what use is gospel

If her protector became violator

He would always tell her he loved her

Of what use is beauty

When your body is an amusement park he never stops exploring

You could tell Mommy

Report the case to anybody

But oh well, who would listen

He’s your Daddy

And you’re just a child after all

And you would grow up to become an atheist of love

An unbeliever of true affection

Your doubt will rise like the sun

But unfortunately,

Yours will have no ending.



#30daysofendsexualharassment #dayseventeen

My pride is shattered and gone
of tales of woes done
in the dead of the night
When there was no light
He tore my clothes apart
My legs thrown apart
As Streams of tears
roll down my face
My heart beat in fast pace
In pain my hymen tore
and became sore
My scream lost in the wind
Like a whirlwind
I prayed it was all a fuss
Each moment reminded
Me of every thrust
Plunged in memories of hurt
Left in pains like flood
in the pool of my blood
With my heart battered
Thinking my dreams shattered
I took a bottle of pills
And let my blood spill
Now am drowned
in a heartless world
of tales untold
© Samuel junior


#30daysofendsexualharassment #daysixteen

A little dose for pain
Too little doze off…pain!
These holy grounds are not sacred anymore
They have become grounds for trespassers to thread upon!
Yes!, trespass in the name of love
Trespasses in the name of the lord
Tress, passing through fingers

If you scream, I’ll cut!

Trespass is the new kid on the bloc!

The language of these doofus is a thing of such
The lands our ancestors treasured are not treasures anymore
They have become hills for goats and the dogs to thread upon
They have become, what we cannot speak of… such!

Leaving these damsels cleaving to the helms of their wrappers
Leaving the door to a holy land ajar
These uncultured miscreants, calling babes their pals
Yet, they press the booties in their dirty minds from afar

Alas!, Adebimpe does not smile like she used to
The memories of the Daniel’s is what she is glued to…
The unforgettable smell of the goat wearing human shoes
… to be truthful
The trauma becomes mostly unbearable!

The memories of torn wrappers should become perjury!
An attempt upon non-consenting panties should be termed felony!
Trespass to persons by another person should not go at ease
They should be yardsticks for capital punishments;leaving both hearts to bleed!


Sodium O’Lakes


#30daysofendsexualharassment #dayfifteen

The solemn cries of his heart

were laced with shivers of confusion.

Is it to be heard that a mother’s love

was to be brought to question?

This story I tell as if it were mine,

as I mine the root of this occurrence.

Lawrence was plagued by the

touch of his very own mother

as she rocked him to sleep and

gingerly caressed his body.

It felt like home until she pressed

her own will against his chest.

His heart couldn’t love and he grew

up to be a breaker-of-Hearts because

he only saw pleasure without reason.

The day his heart learnt the truth,

he sent two souls wandering around.

Today, we lay their bodies to rest.


#30daysofendsexualharassment #dayfourteen

A bane to both gender.

Bemused by the acts of muscular gender, 

The thoughts of committing murder fluttering its victims mind.

The memorable scars that lingers through

Thoughts of having it deliquesce as the day goes by.

Seen as a worthless figure, an unfortunate soul who walk the face of the soil.

The unimaginable agony that springs forth from the victimized.

The cloud of tears gathering the face of the Patsy hoping to tear through the eyes

 Considering whether to live or be termed the epitome of shame


The making of the beast 

#30daysofendsexualharassment #daythirteen


You call me a slut,

Even after sexual fists and sloths,

Why can’t you ask, what makes me one?

You said the intensity of my promiscuity is beyond words,

You need to hear my story,

Baleful experiences loaded in lorries.

When I was 12, he showed me love,

He offered me gifts and tenderly cared,

That fateful day, he despoiled me.

I realized, his lethal love covered with mist just seemed so real.

His flagrant affections was just a disguise,

To get my back down to the bed.

My body was being treated like a piece of shit.

He even threatened to kill ,

Peradventure, I tell anybody.

He turned me to his sex machine,

His everyday tonic, I couldn’t imagine.

He spoilt the ship for ha’parth of tar.

His wanton cruelty ruined life.

After many years of doomy experience from my uncle.

This has been a stigma in my life ever since,

Until I met the love of my life.

He was a perfect gentle guy as I presumed,

Heaven on earth he promised,

Have found a saviour, I concluded.

My odious story I shared,

Thinking he could be of help,

He pitied and flooded with care,

Unknowingly they were all guile,

To fell and lost in his ruinous affection.

That lovely day, I went visiting,

The aftermath was my undies were down to my foot.

That was the stroll that broke the camel’s back.

How could this happened? I asked myself.

I was drugged.

All he could altered was “it was the devil”.

Then I realized, my heart had been tossed to and fro like blind coins.

My body has been wounded.

I have been deceived and tainted.

My hope was dashed.

All these made me the beast I am

I tried to let go and opt out from my past,

But all are to no avail.

Now, you say am lose and fancy free,

This is the making of the beast.