the Hope of Survivors

Who’s Next? by Rachel Clarion*
(*A pseudonym) © 2003

I was invited to a feast
Among the minions, I was least
The leader stood and spoke kind words
His eye was on this wounded bird

His calculations proved correct
Deep down inside I was a wreck
The damaged one who lagged behind,
An ingénue, in essence, blind

With smiling eyes, he fixed my plate
He fed me cruel sadistic hate
With shepherd’s arms, strong to protect,
He placed the noose around my neck

A predator, a charming shark
Whose work was hidden in the dark
He used charisma to buy fame
In a career immune from blame

He crushed my faith, he warped my mind
He cut my bough from off the Vine
He stole my passion, livelihood,
And called it very, very good.

It served HIS needs; he was supreme
To make me bleed, his unconscious dream
It fills his emptiness for a while—
At least he’s not a pedophile

So let’s all offer hugs and prayers
And return him to his priestly chair
He promises he won’t do it again
As he smirks at weak, forbearing men

Who say, “He’s human just like us”
And fail to see the breach of trust
While they continue to think the best,
Their wives and daughters will be next.

The LORD is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart...Psalms 34:18