put down your stone

by Linda M. Crate

sunsets of crimson light
burn the flames of my rage
against this current state
of derangement, an arrangement of stones thrown
at victims violates them only again as if the
first time weren't nearly hard enough;
support for rapists rings loudly and stronger
than the aid for the victims —
how could we arrive at the conclusion like this?
women are more than your sex slaves,
much more than mere objects to gratify the desires of men;
don't these people have mothers, cousins, sisters, or nieces?
even wolves don't rip into each other so cruelly,
these broken girls once had dreams and still do yet they're
told you shouldn't have let yourself get raped —
instead of teaching girls this,
why aren't boys taught 'don't rape'?
morality is about as common as common sense whose wings
have fled this land of idolatry and immorality —
ignorance sings, but it is not bliss
to those who actually hold knowledge in our minds,
knowing in our hearts that this is wrong;
having to listen to the disgusting justifications that justify nothing at all.