Why Didn’t You Say Something?

Image credit: the African americanlectionary.org
Image credit: theafricanamericanlectionary.org

Everybody’s asking why they waited for so long.  

Why it took some never-heard comedian who resurrected claims from years before, to start the firestorm he’ll be hard-pressed to escape from now without some degree of burn.

Everybody’s asking where they were all of this time.  

Why they’re choosing now to jump on, piggybacking on the claims, ‘cause we don’t understand their decision not to say what really happened until somebody else had cleared the way.

Everybody’s asking what it really was that happened.  

Why some accepted forms of compensation – especially after the fact – which means that somehow they’ve condoned it, or accepted it because they were included in the act. 

Everybody’s asking why they can’t just move along.  

Why they assume the roles of suspects because of who the person is, making their way out of the woodwork to ask that he accept the blame as his.

Is anybody asking that grown woman who remembers being fondled by some boys – why she chose to abandon that old memory like some long-forgotten toy?

Is anybody asking that grown woman who stomachs the painful reminder – why a crossing of their paths feels very much like some old discarded tinder?

Is anybody asking that grown woman who stays silent during the accounts – why she lets her story pale beside the ones which choose to shout? 

 

 

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