The skeletons keep tumbling Out of the closets At an alarming pace Assumed to be buried deep Under the guise of times bygone Suppressed to the confines of the wall Unknown to the world With wounds still bleeding That cut through deep, and how Putting death to shame To die a thousand deaths, every day On the pretext of living How unfortunate then, The ignominy to see them as ghosts of the past hat never was (My attempt to capture the plight of women who have experienced a #metoo )