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.