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In a world with human rights
human trafficking victims have none
if they try to scream, if they try to fight back
they’ll be so lucky if they’re not shot by a gun

Depression, a best friend of theirs
mental and emotional health consequences
often visits them
but who cares?

Just an ordinary girl or an ordinary boy
who had undergo a serious trauma
feeling hopeless, coldheartedness and loveless
even from their Mama

Memory loss, anger
they also feel shame, fear
And feel like a new person

Cause the person they once were
they aren’t no more
due to the given circumstances
they had to explore

Stolen, beaten, *****
enduring the unspeakable
leaving them with psychological effects
and other effects that are unthinkable

Praying, wishing, hoping
for someone to come to rescue them
but even the ones that try to help
seems they are not a friend

Consumed with hatred
a fire the never seems to go warm
human trafficking victims
might easily self harm

In a world where we have rights
unfortunately the victims of human trafficking have none
We just have to pray for their health
and freedom!
JE Boothe Jul 2020
I had a family,
I had my innocence,
I had a life,
I didn't ask for this sentence.

He tricked me,
He used and abused me,
He beat and broke me,
Then He sold me.

Broken and Abused,
Addicted and used,
Beaten and used,
This is my penance.

They found me,
They rescued me,
They took care of me,
They pulled me from my prison within.
Sienna Dec 2018
There’s a woman in the streetlight surrounded by reddish dark
Her body feeling numb, her body feeling stark
As she waits for a man to come and leave his mark
No father or dreams nothing to believe
Sold into this life, her mom is the enemy
And her tears and body are its currency
No point to beg or plead
The lonely men are satisfied when she bleeds
She gives them all and everything
But they continue to feed
Some get careless and leave her to breed
A baby on the way but the world it’ll never see
As the red on her legs triggers tears to the sink
Again she starts the cycle
Smoking a cigarette, sitting under the light pole
Dreading the next man to take her to bed
Knowing sooner or later she’d be left for dead
But the feeling won’t register anymore
As mommy had done this to her
Mommy had made her a *****
And now she’s only wanted nothing more
Then to go to a home and open a door
Without fear of being pushed to the floor
While her body is seen as just another lure
She never asked for this or the ***** kiss
Never wanted to feel it forced in
As her body grows tired and gets fragile and thin
Wishing again and again for a better life as another tear rolls off her chin
And joins the others in the puddle of unwanted sin.
Don't you love when you get compliments?
When someone calls you pretty, maybe gorgeous, attractive...**** even
What about being told you're made for *******
That you have wide hips, and a nice neck to wrap their hands around
Have you ever been complimented on how sweet you cry in agony?
Or how beautifully you suffer?

I grew up with my mother,
She neglected me
and I was nothing but not a son to her
My mother..
Was just like every other of her kind
No, she would not buy me gifts
Nor jewelry, nor would she buy makeup
Or ever think about it for that matter,
Her money had a different purpose...
She would spend every last cent if even it meant
We wouldn't have enough to pay rent
And I would cry every last tear because I wished not to be here...
and I'd lament...
Even if it meant that I would gain a slap to the face for being a disgrace
Even though my mother, Grace, was always lost and didn't know her place
Yes, she was lost, her parents didn't want her
Maybe she has no sympathy
She was treated so badly, but maybe she deserved it
She would talk about how she worked for everything she had
But she didn't have much

Maybe she had no sympathy because even though being through the same,
She quickly rid of me
And for what? Some thing called ******? To sit still, yet spin?
I suppose my everlasting pain and suffering to her was money in her pocket and something she no longer had to endure
Maybe she was cursed with a sickness, perhaps I was the cause,
Nonetheless she assumed my agony and absence was the cure,

Where she is in life? I'm not sure
But I wonder almost all the time
Because no person I'm with now, no none, can I have a relationship as pure
It was hell, yes
But I would escape to it in a ring of a bell
At the snap of a finger,
At the snap of a wrist,
And yes, I know very well the sound that such a thing would make,
Oh the first time I shivered and watched another girl shake
With a demon above her
Who shoved her
Who started with saying he loved her,
A demon inside a man
Who's greed and lust captured his image perfectly
He was a worthless creep

I now cope with this,
Because that's my daily life
Men who have a wife, but still desire others, especially those that do the opposite of admire in their presence.
With each passing day, the surprise lessens
Because these men, they beat it into us
They say they'll teach us some "lessons"
And so we listen because we've already been so abused that we can't take anything more physical
So we let them feed their greed and we wind up broken or dead and still carry their evil seed

One thing that can build light in such a time
If even from such an evil thing
Is a prosperous life, a human being,
But no, we go through the pain of giving,
And we don't get a prosperous life,
Because like I said
My relationship here... will never be as pure...
as it was...when I was with Grace.
So these men
They take our creations
They use them against us
If we slipped up or messed up
Or did the slightest thing they didn't like,
They would bleed, and be beat, until, they just ripped off their feet
Then, those monsters, would destroy a baby that they saw as a toy of influence
But yet they don't need such an idea,
This is their world
And they are the ruthless rulers, raging rampant
In this dark, dark, brutal, destructive encampment

I continue my routine
Awaiting my next tear for when I break
but until then, I shiver, and I shake
Nobody deserves this

if the words are censored for you, feel free to message me to see it uncensored
Edward Coles Mar 2018
There’s an offering of change
Vitamin pills and get rich schemes
Selling a better life
A shot of paradise

In a series of halogen bulbs
All the tunnels lead to Mexico
The hidden hand on demand
Working off in the shadows
Maybe they’re hiding in plain sight
Just a crazy thought that crossed my mind

Now I’m holding out for truth
Amongst the sedatives
Now everything I see
Is played out on a broken touch screen
And now the ship is sunk
Let’s get down to the bar
I need to see the sun come up
before I start to come down

Johnny was a head-case man
All the things they did to him
And when the rich men left
And when he finally slept

He’d sleep for an hour or two
In a punch-drunk afternoon
All of the chemicals
Working off in the shadows
It’s no wonder he took his life
Just a crazy thought that crossed my mind

Now I’m holding out for truth
Amongst the sedatives
Now everything I see
Is played out on a broken touch screen
And now the ship is sunk
Let’s get down to the bar
I need to see the sun
Come up before I start to come down
A new song of mine
Margo May Jul 2016
we say we're the land of the free and home of the brave
yet thousands of people are still trafficked as slaves

they say ignorance is bliss and maybe it's so
but the world will never change if you never know

join with me in prayer on their behalf as we fight
for darkness to be penetrated with irrepressible light
svdgrl Jan 2016
Somewhere along the long stretching lines
of misogyny and misunderstanding,
******* and child-******* became
false-terms that were accepted by the masses
to describe small exploited human beings,
and **** became a title boys and men aspired
to achieve, and not quite directly the
selfish manipulative sociopathic ****
that it really entailed.
Thank you, Curtis Jackson.
In case no one has screamed it enough,
It's January 2016 folks.
Let's place ourselves in some perspective.
The stories are never just one,
but I'm getting angry and I'm fortunate
enough to be able to speak.
I've got privileges that need to be checked,
Let's check off the privilege that I haven't been abducted
or coerced at 12 by he who claimed that I was wise beyond my years,
and plucked out of my family to do his bidding
under the guise of a mature relationship.
He's 26, but all I can see is the fact I could be older
than the other girls. An old soul in a small pre-pubescent body.
Which is what they tell you to make you feel special.
Let's check off the privilege that
I'm not given those funny feeling drugs to help me
cope with pain of losing my "virginity" to a high-rolling old man
who was fond of his size.
Let's check off the privilege
that even if I do manage to escape the slavery that I'm put in,
I'm labeled as a *** and used up and too ****** up to really be better,
by both my family and my peers
You don't have to cover your ears and eyes,
because you think you can't see me.
You think I'm over seas or in some true detective podunk village
in middle America.
You think I'm not in your school-yard or
I wasn't the girl you teased for being pregnant in middle school,
the one that disappeared and never came back.
That I might not be your troubled niece who keeps hanging with the wrong crowd and going to boarding school this summer,
but she runs away from home before she's sent off.
But we keep blaming *** education, welfare and alternative schooling as the bane of our children,
all these ads for awareness and underfunded programs to aid them
are quickly shoveled under the thick heavy expensive rugs of the Kardashians and Wests,
the golden globes and the best dressed,
and those horrendous child beauty pageants.
Let's stop absorbing this filler material that we shovel into our
kids brains,
and maybe teach our little boys what it means to be privileged,
and to protect by learning to respect.
Our little girls how far they can reach if they learn to never second guess their worth.
It begins with us. Let's stop turning a blind-eye and shut ear,
because we fear making a commitment to the belief
that men and women should be equal.
That yes, not all men,
but yes there are women,
and our experience is not the only story that needs to be understood.
And everyone has a privilege that needs to be checked,
but check your own first.
January is human-trafficking and slavery awareness month.
It exists among us, all.
Let's stop being part of the problem and learn how we can help.
princessninann May 2015
humans for sale*
you can lick their body
you can trade their kidney
you ignore them, and pretend you can't see.

Ignorance is the key to their death
Poverty is their destiny
Hunger is their enemy
Darkness is their only escape.

And you want to take them
getting all the benefits
selling their soul
exploiting their body.

How do you see these black children?
How do you see these poor people?
Robots? Slaves? For sale?
For ***? For money? For power?

Well, I see them as human
they cry, they love, they laugh.
I see you as the Demon,
you know nothing but evil.
for the victims of human trafficking, God is with your and for all the offenders, may God judge you.
Pax Nov 2014
Horror speaks in silence
    and Fear speaks in signs
              it’s written on my face
                        and on the faces I see.

How did I end up here?

A masked man brought us food.
The smell of it drives us mad in hunger.
We eat like we're crazy.
Devouring it like messy animals.

I see the eyes of superiority
            in the sight of the masked man.
I look at them with deep curiosity.
He looks back with a look of intent.
Deep blue eyes inspect the whole me.
then I realized, everyone, including me
            wears nothing but just two pieces of
I quickly cover my well-being,
then he just walks away.

I felt ***** ,
and Cold in this rusty dark place.
Where are we going?
Our future is uncertain.
I felt that our life is for sale,
like animals going to be slaughtered.

Sleep is taking my reality
Hoping that dreams will wash away
            the fear, horror and uncertainty along the way.                      

*© Pax
written May 21, 2012

Justice is blind when money talks
people who treats women as a pleasure tool is just cruel
this poem tackles about white slavery

This is reality, weather we see it or not. A sad case that still keeps on going around the world.

I thank you all for reading.

— The End —