Updated: Oct 17, 2020
I had to go out, so I got dressed.
Not for the world, but myself to impress.
I knew I could look, the prettiest that ever was.
Fresh like the water, with fragrance of the rose.
Stepped out the house, with those heels on.
The top a little loose, the jeans a little torn.
As I walked the road, I felt a noise behind.
I turned back to look, with no one to find.
It was probably the sound, of the thoughts in my head.
For the news it was, that morning I had read.
Of a woman in my street, been attacked and left.
In the shrubs near my home, she lied and wept.
She lives today, but I know she is upset.
Feeling vulnerable, with anger and threat.
I continue to walk, as I am not chained.
By the unbridled desires, not taking the blame.
I however, look back more.
Hear the footsteps, and cannot ignore.
The voices in my head, & the loose top.
Those ripped jeans, and the heeled clogs.
Now I wear them less, when I go out.
As she wore the same, when she faced the pounce.