We lie about the dead

Giving them sudden sainthood

Nothing clears a name

Faster than life’s end

Your sins all remembered

But never spoken again

A world of pain inflicted

That will never be resolved

But speak praise praise praise

For our tormentors

And silence any truth

That may dare slip out

Image is more important

Than any honesty

In a shallow world

That demands compliance

We the living

Are mere objects

Destined only to enhance

The narrative

And if we dare

Step out and speak up

We are debunked and denied

We become invisible

For daring

To lift our voices – Caroline A. Slee

Cruelty #MondayBlogs

2 thoughts on “Cruelty #MondayBlogs

  1. This happened to a friend of mine who was abused for years by her father. When she spoke of it, even after his death, she was shunned and ousted by the rest of the family–even though they knew. It was to be kept a family secret. I’ve had the blessed and unusual situation of no abusive men in my life.

    • That’s absolutely horrific for your friend. I’m so sorry that happened to her.
      I’ve always been puzzled by the phrase “don’t speak ill of the dead.” If they actively wrought ill while they were living, why not simply speak the truth? It feels like we are a culture of rugsweeping when we do this.

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