The velvety shroud of silk,
Masked her red, moist eyes.
Skin so soft and white as milk.
To the world outside not to be seen,
Scars adorn her face, sneered at and classed as unclean.
No voice to be heard, silenced by law.
There is so much beauty within, if only people saw.
A label placed by a so called democratic view,
Opinions daggered, brain starts to stew.
Extemist culture classed as one,
But this girl driven to death,
This time only hers, the haters had won.
© C Webber 2017