“Innocence branded by a blood stained hand”

This is a poem I wrote for a little girl stuck in human trafficking. I can see her face in my head, but she doesn’t have a name.

Ashamed, broken, she did stare.
The last she possessed, now laid bare.

Gone, her very best, betrayed by greed of man.
All she had to offer, taken. Lost, like a grain of sand.

She lay there in silence, her eye wide shut.
Amidst this world of darkness, she crammed her beating heart.

Screaming images, flood that lost soul.
Lasting Memory… Her mind is full.

Do you know the sight of anguish?
There she lays in forgotten cell.
Do you know the sound of anguish?
There she screams in forgotten cell.

Do you hear the cry of injustice? Do you hear the screams of forced silence?
There she lays, so still and listless, trying to forget the repeating violence.

The price of lust stole her soul,
ravaged and cast aside, acts of injustice full.

Days become fear, nights a torment.
The eyes of a little girl flash for a moment

Too afraid to speak, too afraid to scream,
The eyes of a little girl shut by sins heavy beam.

No longer does sight come to those tired eyes,
For all she sees is darkness, surrounded by lies.

O merchant of souls, to you do I question.
At what price is innocence sold? At what price is its ransom?

She lays there forgotten, in a deep dark land,
Her innocence branded by a blood stained hand.


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