Grey Old Man

He is grey.

Not silky grey,

Or silvery grey,

Just Filthy, Muddy, dirty grey.

He stains innocence,

His touch dark, despicable, destroying.

He takes.

Crushing purity,

Stealing childhood.

He leaves permanent grey scars,

Deep within his victims.

Yet he doesn’t face consequences,

His crimes attack the vulnerable.

Too quiet, too young, too innocent to speak out.

He is grey.

Staining childhood,

with his dirty, dark, traumatising grey.

By Autumn Willow

copyright@K.Haigh August 2018

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