Thursday, November 18, 2010

The Young Victims of Sex Trade


While the world is busy
Rotating madly on its axis
They were stacked in a half-dozen high,
Concrete cages,

Waiting for their turn
To be exploited,
Tainted,
Trafficked,
Sold...

Innocent girls as young as five
Trapped on the blockade of no-more dreams
Where their blood-curdling screams
Were persecuted inside them
Deprived..
Of being heard...

Behind those walls are painful cries
Pleas (for education),
Fears (for self worth),
Traumas (for AIDS...for Alienation)
Have you seen/heard/felt them?

They were there...
Somewhere...
God knows what they feel...

The trembling of their knees
The first time the lining of their dreams
Were sliced evilly...
Lacerated...

The nipples of their hopes
Brutally clawed by the beast
Of different races
In less than ten hours

They were there...
Somewhere...
Paining...
Penning their blues in the wind
The words behind their silent weeping
In every excruciating night

Nights and days of drowning
In the language of the sex trade
And not a ghost of a chance
The eons of light invade
Their infant lamenting souls

God knows what they feel
They were there...
Somewhere

1 comment:

  1. Tragic...and there's nothing we can do about it.

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