He'd abused her, used her,
this man from my own Country.
Damn he even accused her
just so he could walk free
Too much doubt! was cried out
‘She was asking to be hurt,’
justified the young lout,
‘for wearing such a short skirt.’
Policemen laughed, ‘you're daft’
was their experienced comment
gained from years at their craft
though not hurtfully meant
Lawyers the same, ‘you're insane!
if you expect this case to win,
you must be totally to blame,
on him there's nothing you'll pin.’
Though at court, you fought,
to be called a greedy bitch.
Yet it was justice you sought
not to become famous or rich
Victim you are, bearing the scar
for talking to the wrong man
not really a step too far
especially as you were a fan
Football’s his game, ego his name,
didn't care who doused his fire,
that’s what comes from long-term fame
so used you to satisfy his desire
Left with a smile, just his style
calling you a pitiful sight.
His grin lasted but a short while
then he met me one dark night.