That generation of men
How long did I work with abused people
Thirty nine years maybe forty
But always that resistance and absolute denial
By that generation of men
The so called decision makers
Thirty eight years trying
To get through a wall
Of concrete doors
Of silence, of ridicule,
It seems ridiculous to me now
The ends they’d go to
To avoid listening
I’d get phone calls
From experts in the States
My boss shut his door
Stopped answering his phone
The message on his door
I’m out in a meeting
Outside my window
I could see his car
That generation of men
Men who thought abused children
Asked for it in some way
Or that the abusers were right
It didn’t do the child serious harm
After all they’re still alive,
They’re still breathing
What’re they complaining about
Forty years of listening
Forty years of fighting
That generation of men
And now I worry
Nothings really changed
Another generation of men
Are not talking about what they really think
Two children are murdered each week
One woman murdered a fortnight
The majority by men’s doing
These are things men need to sort out
Meanwhile men are silent
Sitting on their hands
Talking about sport
As if it’s the be-all of this life
This generation of men.
RAC