A Brutal Reality

Marcia sat near me and wept.

Although only moments ago

she was whispering in my ear

and laughing,

she had just disclosed her innermost secret.

She had been raped.

Beaten and left for dead,

in the back of her assailants red pick-up truck.

She called 911

then went home to take many showers.

The half of a man who molested her

was still in town

still in town, we presumed,

doing the same thing to other young women.

She shook as I held her hand,

she confided that she had lost much weight,

couldn't find a job,

and had lost all of her dignity.

I looked in her big brown eyes

and shared her sadness,

comforting her with a hug, a prayer,

and a promise that justice would be served.

Marcia sleeps alone at night

if she sleeps at all

shaken by the fear

of the violent act

and hoping for revenge,

justice, and a peace of understanding

that transcends all being.