Monday, February 11, 2013

Lost Little Lamb

As many people close to me know, or for those of you who are complete strangers reading this who don't know (hey strangers), I’m very passionate about using my Criminal Justice degree to help victims, or rather, survivors of crime. Many people I care deeply about have survived crimes, and I myself am a survivor.

I’ve recently started undergoing training to become a Rape Response advocate. It’s a volunteer position that I want to use to gain experience for my future career. It has been one of the best choices I’ve ever made.

In dealing with heavy emotional turmoil, one of my outlets has become creative writing. Sometimes it is working on trying to get a novel started. Other times I turn more towards the freedom of poetry. Yesterday at my job working 4:30 am to 2:30 pm, I got a creative streak going and wrote the following poem, which is indicative of what I’m training to help change.

Little Lamb, Little Lamb
Tight skirts, tiny dress.
Heels a mile high.
Rouge and pearls and all things pretty,
Adornments for the flesh.

Here is the slaughterhouse.
Lambs led to their deaths.
Wolves stalk about in grey suits,
And with a smile, their eyes flash.

Lure away a little lamb,
Or drop a present in her drink.
The wolves covet silky skin.
And the woman’s treasure held inside.

Scatter, lambs!
Run away, in your heels so tall.
Guard yourself with care.
And see if you can hide.

The night is ended.
Little lambs stumble home.
Some as safe as can be.
But one forever slew.

Tick, Tock. Goes the clock.
Lambs dolled up in white.
Sinister wolves give hungry grins,
And the ritual begins anew.

I knew when I decided to study Criminal Justice that I would help people. Too many women are taken advantage of every day, every month, every year. Not only do we need to be there for the women who have survived, we need to be there for the women still in terrible situations. And we especially need to educate males on proper treatment of women and females on how to know and see unhealthy behavior. The world can be better. And even if sometimes I feel like the only one fighting, you can bet I’ll be fighting until I die.

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