The drum beats loud.
It’s the time of the day
when the hunter must prey.
A whiff of fear
permeates the air.
There is someone there who carries the clout
And another one who stands in everlasting doubt.
The tall fellow in the corner shuts his eye
And the short one thinks he must comply.
A lady in white whispers and rustles
She’d rather steer clear of the hassles.
The formidable high-brow must hibernate now
Sometimes, he says, to fate you must bow.
It’s time, they assert, to look away
That’s how peace will find it’s way.
So the victim and the perpetrator sign a pact
To keep life virtually happy and intact.
For the protocol of abuse isn’t hard to keep
How tough is it, after all, to be the sheep!
And thus in tittle tattles they find their way
That is how the “conspiracies of silence” forever play!