Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but downing.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
This poem is dedicated to all those who have been affected by sexual violence and were forced to carry on and act like everything was okay, who hope one day that the world is changed for the better and that all the bloodshed and pain will be at an end.