The agony of an outcry unheard, unfelt, and unnoticed.
When there are none that have a clue what to do as they are aware of your distress.
How does one cope with knowing talking about it wouldn’t change much besides temporarily alleviating our psyche?
I don’t know if you’ve ever been there; sleepless nights of torment from the experiences of forced contact.
We were but innocent children but yet were robbed of our innocence by the prevailing spirit of our ancestors.
For if we had ever conceived, it would have been an offspring of incest.
When do we speak up about the wrong of our family tree, exposing the source and imprisoning them from ever passing on its spiritual DNA, corrupted from the seeds of wickedness?
We are dying silently as we expose our young ones to the evidence of foul play with them that share our DNA.
Watching as another generation is scarred from one outbreak continuing its reign of wickedness.
I refuse to turn a blind eye to the wickedness of child molestation.
This will end with me!
I will not allow it to pour out rain in my biological lineage!
