#writespiration # 118 52 Weeks in 52 Words Week 22 : Villains

This week for the #writespiration  52 Weeks in 52 Words Week 22 Sacha Black has changed the rules!

Now because she has just released her brilliant new book 13 Steps to Evil, she has set us the task in the form of a competition with real prizes. Rules for the competition here. Now because the completion is going to run for 4weeks the word count is to be 208.

The aim is to write about the most evil villain 208 words no more no less.

This is  my entry, it is a reworking of one of my earlier poems. I think it portrays a very evil villain. So here shortened to 208 words is.

Hello little Darling.

Hello little darling,you’ve lovely eyes.

You look  pretty standing  there, not yet worldly wise.

Little darling  come and join our dance.

Sit with me darling  in my plush new car

I’ll buy you shoes  and dresses Oh!  how lucky you are

Just a little make up  darling  when the men see you, you’ll be the one they choose.

Be nice to them my darling  give them what they crave.

Don’t upset me darling that’s  no way to behave.

Come on  little darling  give me  your arm

It’s just a little something​, it will do no harm.

Men pay me lots of money, to give you a fuck.

Your​ so young  and pretty, and do anything I ask, what a piece of luck.

What  is  that little  darling, you have had enough?

You’ll do what I tell you. It hurts? Tough.

Now don’t get awkward  darling you’ll make me knock you about

A slap, a punch, a kick, will sort you out.

You want some more of the needle  to get you through the night

Your lucky I am so good to you , get on your knees and beg, right!

Now lets see little darling  you are looking rather jaded

Punters don’t want you, your charms are faded.

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Sue Vincent’s Thursday #writephoto. Knock.

​This is my entry to Sue Vincent’s of Daily Echo #writephoto Knock. 

Rules and Pingback here

During the night Rachel felt so near to Mathew she thought she could reach out and touch him. Through her broken and intermittent sleep she also heard Lisa’s voice calling to her and the child Hope sending​ out strong homing vibes. 

When the first rays of dawn shone in through the rafters  Rachel awoke and  for the first time since she had lost her baby she knew where, exactly where she had to go. She stood, first stretching her front legs and then her back legs. 

Rachel left the derelict cottage and not deviating from what she heard in her head she set off towards the calling of  Lisa and Hope.

After an hour and a halfs run she came to the old bridge arch’s, she crossed the stream and  entered them.  As scared as she was she walked to the back of the dark chamber untill she reached the door at the far end. 

Looking at the strange old and devilishly​ looking knocker she raised it slowly she gave one, loud  knock……

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Last Chance to Vote , Bloggers Bash.

Please cast your votes soon

To delay would be a sin

Make the chosen swoon.

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Just my clumsy way of saying the voting ends imminently, and time for buying tickets is running out too.

Just in case it has escaped your notice my blog is in the Hidden Gem Catagory. I am so honoured to have been nominated but a vote would be lovely too. 

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Image from Hugh’s lovely Blog

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No weep for you Mother.

Sue Vincent of Daily Echo has triggered me to remember this poem I wrote For Child Abuse Month in 2012. I thought it would be fitting for             #International  Children’s Day. Thank you Sue. I protest too.

No Weep For Your Mother

Photo Credits Google images.

They came in the night, they made the women scream like animals. Then they killed the men, then they cut the breasts off of the women with babies, then they burnt the men’s bodies the village and the crops. Some of them were men, but more were children boys and girls.. with angelic faces, dead eyes , tight curly hair and machetes and gun.

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They came in the night they caused a terrible fright. They butchered the men  and raped the women again and again then cut off the breasts of the mothers with babies. They shot those that ran like a dog with rabies.

They rounded us up, those under five they did not leave alive but us that could walk they took. The last sight we had of our sweet lives was the flames of our village, the last sight for those brave enough to look.

No weep for your brother, no weep for your father or mother  no weep or they beat you boy. Now you be a soldier you carry a gun say goodbye to happy days no more joy no more fun. You learn to shoot, you learn fast, you do as you are told you do not get asked. You sleep when your told you march till you drop if you do good you get a blanket to keep out the night’s cold.

You learn how to throw a grenade and set a mine then you learn to watch as people die from famine. You learn no pity you learn only pain  what ever you can get is someone’s loss but now it’s your gain.  You eat when the big boys say eat. If you take too much or steal it you get beat.

photo credits http://www.rowthree.com/

They don’t just take us boys they take girls too and what’s worse they have to sleep with the men and they get babies which is a curse. They have to do all that we have to do but don’t worry what the men do to them they sometimes do to us too.

We have to kill without mercy, burn villages and crops , us boys and the girls right up until their babies drop. No good looking frightened that will not save you, no good being pretty or cute that don’t bode well for you.

We loose what love we had, it is replaced by the gun and for long hot days in the sun covered in blood eventually you forget your mum. No chance for learning at school we are soldiers now on the road stealing and killing……… now isn’t that cool. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They came in the night, they made the women scream like animals. Then they killed the men, then they cut the breasts off of the women with babies, then they burnt the men’s bodies the village and the crops. Some of them were men, but more were children boys and girls.. with angelic faces, dead eyes , tight curly hair and machetes and guns.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Child soldiers, taken from their villages, boys and girls both. Taken , used and abused. Beaten , hardened until they have no feelings.  Girls forced in to marriage and made pregnant still take part in raids..pregnant or carrying babies on their backs. Boys treated no better abused and hardened . Another horrible type of Child Abuse 

I protest #InternationalChildrensDay

I agree with Sue and join in with her protest!

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

I protest.

I protest against the poverty and hunger in which so many children are forced to live by failing societies where greed is an economic norm. In the UK, alone, one in four children officially live in poverty… yet it is relative poverty. In many countries, poverty is the norm and means utter deprivation of even the most basic necessities. Every ten seconds, a child dies from hunger and its consequences. Almost nine hundred children die every day because they have no access to clean water.

I protest against the denial of medical care to any child. Every year, over 13 million children less than 5 years die from illnesses which could have been avoided or treated.

I protest against eager minds denied education in a world where so many have access to so much. Over a hundred million children, the adults of our own future, are growing…

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