The Jest of 'Just' - A Poem by Eva

 The Jest of 'Just' 

A whisper starts, a shadow creeps,

"Just a joke," where cruelty sleeps.

"Just a glance," that lingers long,

Where power blooms, and rights go wrong.

"Just a film," they say, and shrug,

As violence paints, a poisoned drug.

A slap resounds, a woman's fall,

"Just fiction," echoes through the cinema hall.

"Just words," they claim, a careless sting,

"Bi*ch" and "wh*re," where sorrows cling.

"Get rap*d," they hiss, a venom's dart,

"Just language," tearing lives apart.

"Just a touch," that strays too low,

Where boundaries break, and terrors grow.

"Just a squeeze," a hand's command,

The body's fear, misunderstood, unplanned.

"Just her clothes," they coldly state,

As if a fabric seals her fate.

"Just her walk," a whispered blame,

Igniting fires of cruelest shame.

"Just at night," a darkened street,

Where predators and victims meet.

"Just another risk," they coldly say,

As innocence is stolen away.

"Just our culture" is their contention,

Where woman's worth is in her lacerations. 

"Just tradition," words that veil,

To justify a blood worn trail.

"Just" a prefix, cheap and sly,

That masks the truth, and lets wrongdoers fly.

After all, no "just-ice" to make a victim whole, 

Only "just" to mend a broken soul.

- A Poem by Eva

Note from Ian: I met my lovely wife nearly five years ago. We definitely bonded over shared interests and the ability to have good conversations. I have read her articles, several cover letters and publications, but today she surprised me with this beautiful poem. She writes from a perspective so unfamiliar to me and yet, one that needs to be put out there. Do comment and let me know how this makes you feel.