My Sister Mutilated By Wealthy Rapists Poem by Ugochukwu Aneke

My eyes could tell that judge that I would not shot him to die that quick, but I would cut him to pieces, part by part, of painful plague within his soul as he watches alive. I'll send the corrupt pieces to an Oven-man to toast and roast them Like a cows' towel. I would make sure the swine would enjoy its ugLy sweet taste.

Demoned-devils on Wig and retched vultures on gown in the very disguise as warriors for Justice, yet they see through the blindfold of Justice in practice......That which the mother justice forbade itself. Rusted lust has raped and mocked our hope for the peace of tomorrow.