.
.
Traded as payment for overdue wage
She knows, though it’s gilded, it’s still a cage
She’s yet to see sun
Shipped from place to place, displayed on a stage
To those whose tastes prefer ones underage
For sick sense of fun
She’s told back home no one’s missed her absence
She does not believe in their evidence
But bows to their might
Forced to do things against her conscience
Knowing what they do to those called nuisance
Flees into the night
Thunder rolls, storm clouds brew:
It was the sound of His measure of her trouble
It was the sound of His dread for her plight
Bloodied to a near pulp from being beat
In deepest fear of the oncoming feet
It was much too near
Oblivious to the filthy concrete
She lays prostrate in the dark on the street
It’s all she can hear
Brought to this new land for a tidy sum
From a land she never asked to leave from
She was their plaything
Smelling of cocaine, and cheap stale rum
She lays there waiting for death to come
She hears them calling
Lightning strikes, raindrops pelt:
It was the sound as His anger mounts
It was the sound of His tears falling
Glass grinds into her already raw shin
The pain raises a moan from deep within
They hear her outcry
A tear is slowly sliding down her chin
As they plunder through her most tender skin
Knives do not ask why
As each breath she takes become more shallow
Smiling, she knows she won’t see tomorrow
Her end has begun
She’s raised from the filth in which she wallows
A shining light eases her deep sorrow
At last she sees sun
Dew drops, Sun rises:
It was the sound as His arms open
It was the sound of His words of welcome
<>==========<>==========<>
Raivenne-lations 
I hated to press like, but Its a poem that move me to tears. Trafficing is slavery and murder. She was once a smiling happy child. It’s so sad… but as long as there are customers this will go on.
Thank you, Björn.
“but as long as there are customers this will go on.”
So unfortunately true.
ugh..heart rending you know…the way we treat others…bought and sold…the trafficking of humans is sucha despicable business….lifetimes robbed…i support a group that goes into thailand to free some of the ladies there…
Thank you, Brian. I also work with an agency that is a part of many to stop this. The stories I’ve heard and read… It is such a horrific business.
I admire your passion.
Cheers,
Mark Butkus
Thanks Mark.
Man… this is good, but makes me angry and sad. I will never understand these things.
I don’t ever want to understand either, Charles. Thank you.
Very powerful reminder of the hateful crime of human sex trafficking. You face its terrifying reality unwincingly, giving us a portrait filled with shame. I am glad she found release into unconditional love at last.
Thank you Chaz.
I’m glad your address this…it needs to be talked about, as depressing as it is; your give her hope even though her chance to survive was slim..so sad
Sad, doesn’t even begin to cover the reality of it. Thank you Katy.
This is so tragic and heart-wrenching! Your poem is so poignant!
Thank you, M.J.
A lot of nice imagery going on, it especially like “Knives do not ask why.” The poem is simply gruesome. The situation, tragic.
I do hope this is the forward to a great story! Thanks for sharing.