But I will yell this

Even if it sounds clichéd,
I will tell this.
I know,
You heard it ten times
But I will yell this.

She didn't ask for it.
Did she?
She was thirteen
Fun, frolic and promises.
With hopes abound 
Filled with effervescence.
Very first time - 
Those crude intrusive 
Unwelcomed eyes
Pricked every essence of her.
The deeds of brazenness 
didn't stop there.
Only thrust through acts
More lewd and outrageous.
Cat calls and hoots,
Groping, stalking and abuse.
The years passed 
Only names and faces changed.
Every step outside
Never felt natural,
But then with time
Even that became normal.

How can her own body
Be the cause of offence!
The very frame 
Which carries the soul
Under her skin,
And offers a living chance.
The soul which lays
Tattered and smothered 
With years of untold hurts
And tainted reality that hovered.

The stained trust 
In deep recess of her heart
will never be spotless.
For the want of
dignity and respect 
The battle continues regardless.
While the mind amends
For survival.
But the soul cries in disguise.
The women in her
Now questions each and every eye.

Even if it sounds clichéd 
I will tell this.
I know,
You heard it ten times
But I will yell this.