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"trafficking" poems
Glitter and gold is the man in the chair with rings on his fingers and the hardened harsh stare blinded by ugliness wrists chained down by no use a man with much money he spends on abuse the term known as trafficking familiar I’m sure he’s never been one for doing what’s pure so he lays down his money flings out his cash says he’ll pay the full price for the girl with the mask just to touch her to feel her pet her cold body with his run clammy hands up her scarred legs clamp her in his ashen fist little boys too he will willingly harm because trafficking to him is a sport no need for alarm Just cows in the system of making ends meat. The poor solemn dancer the poor saddened soul the poor battered spirit angry that they’ve been sold with ***** feet and scabby legs they work to feed the king the end from him they can only beg And freedom will never ring.
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May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 4:47 PM UTC
Glitter and Gold
smuggled in for a lucrative trade beaten, bartered broken in, until i obey i used to be childlike innocent and safe now i’m someone else's treasure a strangers pleasure smothered in shame.
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Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 4:34 PM UTC
Trafficking
We live in a world, that's loaded down with greed. Man will do anything for money, falling to do a good deed. Man will take a chance, to traffic people across the boarder. They pack them in like sardines, and like a selfish hoarder. We will never stop allowing drugs, from entering our land. Men thinks that they are cleaver, by planting drugs, within the body of man. With the technology we have, something need to be done. The slavery of woman who 's brought to our country, to them, it's not fun. By, Sandra Juanita Nailing
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Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
Trafficking
(1/15/13) the human trafficker sells your body , sells your soul they keep you under their control. to them you are just a piece of meat for humanity to sit and eat. the younger the victim the easier to control by the time they're teens- their spirit is cold. no longer do they have the will to fight it's become their way of life. they never had a childhood or a family to love or to even know what love's about for their hearts and minds have been turned inside out. fear is the only thing they know and in their face it will show. many are bought and put on the streets if they don't meet their quota - they don't eat. then there are those who are sold privatly those are the ones that you never see. most are girls - but there are boys and they're all used as ****** toys. we have to let all countries know human trafficking has got to go. (C) L . RAMS
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Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC
human trafficking ( part two)
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
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Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
Cruel Inhumane Autocracies
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
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55
In nineteen hundred forty-nine China was won by Mao Tse-tung Chiang Kai-shek's army ran away They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday Supported by the CIA Pushing junk down Thailand way First they stole from the Meo Tribes Up in the hills they started taking bribes Then they sent their soldiers up to Shan Collecting ***** to send to The Man Pushing junk in Bangkok yesterday Supported by the CIA Brought their jam on mule trains down To Chiang Rai that's a railroad town Sold it next to the police chief brain He took it to town on the choochoo train Trafficking dope to Bangkok all day Supported by the CIA The policeman's name was Mr. Phao He peddled dope grand scale and how Chief of border customs paid By Central Intelligence's U.S. A.I.D. The whole operation, Newspapers say Supported by the CIA He got so sloppy & peddled so loose He busted himself & cooked his own goose Took the reward for an ***** load Seizing his own haul which same he resold Big time pusher for a decade turned grey Working for the CIA Touby Lyfong he worked for the French A big fat man liked to dine & ***** Prince of the Meos he grew black mud Till ***** flowed through the land like a flood Communists came and chased the French away So Touby took a job with the CIA The whole operation fell in to chaos Till U.S. Intelligence came into Laos I'll tell you no lie I'm a true American Our big pusher there was Phoumi Nosovan All them Princes in a power play But Phoumi was the man for the CIA And his best friend General Vang Pao Ran the Meo army like a sacred cow Helicopter smugglers filled Long Cheng's bars In Xieng Quang province on the Plain of Jars It started in secret they were fighting yesterday Clandestine secret army of the CIA All through the Sixties the Dope flew free Thru Tan Son Nhut Saigon to Marshal Ky Air America followed through Transporting confiture for President Thieu All these Dealers were decades and yesterday The Indochinese mob of the U.S. CIA Operation Haylift Offisir Wm. Colby Saw Marshal Ky fly ***** Mr. Mustard told me Indochina desk he was Chief of ***** Tricks "Hitchhiking" with dope pushers was how he got his fix Subsidizing traffickers to drive the Reds away Till Colby was the head of the CIA January 1972
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10.1k
CIA Dope Calypso
In nineteen hundred forty-nine China was won by Mao Tse-tung Chiang Kai-shek's army ran away They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday Supported by the CIA Pushing junk down Thailand way First they stole from the Meo Tribes Up in the hills they started taking bribes Then they sent their soldiers up to Shan Collecting ***** to send to The Man Pushing junk in Bangkok yesterday Supported by the CIA Brought their jam on mule trains down To Chiang Rai that's a railroad town Sold it next to the police chief brain He took it to town on the choochoo train Trafficking dope to Bangkok all day Supported by the CIA The policeman's name was Mr. Phao He peddled dope grand scale and how Chief of border customs paid By Central Intelligence's U.S. A.I.D. The whole operation, Newspapers say Supported by the CIA He got so sloppy & peddled so loose He busted himself & cooked his own goose Took the reward for an ***** load Seizing his own haul which same he resold Big time pusher for a decade turned grey Working for the CIA Touby Lyfong he worked for the French A big fat man liked to dine & ***** Prince of the Meos he grew black mud Till ***** flowed through the land like a flood Communists came and chased the French away So Touby took a job with the CIA The whole operation fell in to chaos Till U.S. Intelligence came into Laos I'll tell you no lie I'm a true American Our big pusher there was Phoumi Nosovan All them Princes in a power play But Phoumi was the man for the CIA And his best friend General Vang Pao Ran the Meo army like a sacred cow Helicopter smugglers filled Long Cheng's bars In Xieng Quang province on the Plain of Jars It started in secret they were fighting yesterday Clandestine secret army of the CIA All through the Sixties the Dope flew free Thru Tan Son Nhut Saigon to Marshal Ky Air America followed through Transporting confiture for President Thieu All these Dealers were decades and yesterday The Indochinese mob of the U.S. CIA Operation Haylift Offisir Wm. Colby Saw Marshal Ky fly ***** Mr. Mustard told me Indochina desk he was Chief of ***** Tricks "Hitchhiking" with dope pushers was how he got his fix Subsidizing traffickers to drive the Reds away Till Colby was the head of the CIA January 1972
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61
Terrorism, **** Car bomb, ********** She feels vulnerable, No love to keep her warm 9/11, kidnap, Human trafficking... She’s been forgotten, Left alone in the dark Serial killers, H1N1, Child molesters, *** She shudders with the cold, And Port Au Prince is flattened Hijack, ****** Drive-by shootings... She feels groggy, Influenza sets in Weapons of mass destruction, Cuban nuclear tests... There starts a tingle in her nose, Her eyes pinch shut Genocide, organs on the black market, Xenophobia, suicide bombers... With a bellow from her bowels, From flaming ice the cumulus anvil that infects the world
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May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 5:04 AM UTC
The day the earth sneezed
Speak African child, speak. for you poses a  mouth that heals nations. It is in thine voice in the vibrations of thy mouth that remedies are provided to our ailments. speak African child, speak. speak against the calamities that befall your land. speak against that hand that he dare raises against your bare skin. speak against the blood of your brothers spilled to please others. Speak for  Africa that is one and united, Africa that does not know of any racial divides. Africa that knows no skin colour. speak African child speak. for you are the voice of liberation. speak  for your voice are the echoes of our ancestors. child labour, human trafficking, child *********** school violence, femicides, suicides. and you say you see this not.  African child where is your voice in all of this. doesn't that skin, that accent and ***** hair mark you as of African descent. Speak African child speak for you bare the answers to our questions, you bare the sole of our history.
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Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 10:00 AM UTC
Speak African child.
The human mind is an interesting thing Mine is very As it tends to wander I mean Explore I have been told by an authority My wife That she's never seen one like it Although how she can see a mind I don't know She has seen a lot in her life Both with and before me She was a Travel Agent She's been to Turkey I like turkey I made an interesting stuffing for turkey once It was during my time in the seafood retail business In a fish market It, the stuffing I mean, had shrimp, scallops and crayfish in it My wife didn't like it much, she's of Irish heritage She's been to Ireland too Twice Once in college and once with her family Ireland is where Delorian made his cars in the 1980s Before he was arrested for trafficking in ******* I have not been to Ireland I have been to France, Belgium and England I stayed in Waterloo Belgium for two weeks In the 80's When I was 25 Waterloo is where Napoleon was finally vanquished Beaten by an Englishman They have a monument, the lion, on top of a big hill there I had to climb it twice The first time I forgot my camera I got a new camera recently A Pentax I have had several since Waterloo The camera hasn't been anywhere interesting Just my back yard I use it to take pictures of birds At our feeder In the big maple tree On the ground There is even a turkey that comes in our yard My wife's been to Turkey She was a Travel Agent
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Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 11:11 AM UTC
A Human Mind
The great New York metropolitan stretching its  vibrancy trafficking its wears. Car horns combating in contemptuous arguments habituated eardrums unwittingly pulsating Great buildings upward; towering behemoths in grandiose splendor This great asphalt jungle sprawling its electricity for blocks, for miles The jazz of the city continues the chanting; the sounds of bass and the blowing of the **** sax, the horn, the piano and the drums drumming on its rhythmical beat Beating hearts feeling the vibrancy; the shock waves of nuances echoing the great hustle Multitude of voices singing praise to the different tongues; vibrant in diverse rejoicing, the poetry of men and women Metropolitans claiming the world condensing into small blocks and listening to its RHAPSODY.
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Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 7:29 AM UTC
VIBRANT HUSTLE A jazz-poem
My eyes Have seen in these fifteen years of mine More horrors than many in a hundred see. I have seen grief, and bitterness, and pain. You have given that to me. That has been your gift. My heart Beats at ten thousand times its normal pace For fear when I see you walk into the room I know what’s coming next- Onto the streets, And into a stranger’s unforgiving arms. My skin, Littered with bruises you left, Is a canvas for the horrifying picture You wish to paint me into- One where you are the puppet master And I your marionette. But I am only a child, Not a vehicle for your twisted pleasure. My body Will not pay your bills. Not after you left me with a child. I wear loose clothes to hide her- it’s a girl, I think. And I won’t let you take her away. My feet Will carry me far away from here, As soon as I’ve scrounged up Enough spare quarters, caught on the ***** concrete You force me into walking every night, I'll catch a bus or two away from here. My dreams Will not be broken. I am strong. On Thursday night, I’ll fly away from here. And you’ll forget me I mean nothing to you. My captor, Puppet master, Force of evil, You’ll find another. I wish her fast escape. I will be free.
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Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 11:58 AM UTC
untitled- child *** trafficking perspective poem
Last Night; I dreamt of children smoking cigarettes; I dreamt of kids committing ****** arson, and human trafficking. Last Night, I dreamt of a hyperbolic ********** of Innocence that our culture so unflinchingly asserts from so ruthlessly young an Age.
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Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 2:39 PM UTC
Twisted Dream
(And Reasons Why I Have It Pretty Good) 2. Starving people in Africa who have nothing that even resembles a stable govermnent to keep them safe and fed and alive.  3. Couples going through divorce or recovering from divorce, and their poor children. =\ 4. Drug addicts living on the streets without a family or a hope.  5. Women and children caught up in human trafficking and slavery who have no one to save them.  6. Would-be-mothers who cannot have children. This is heartbreaking for many women.  7. Children abused by their own parents who then have to go through foster care and withstand the constant reminder that they do not have parents that love and care for them.  8. People who have no hope and who believe a bottle of pills is the only way to take away their pain. Life is never a curse, and it is not one's responsibility to take when it becomes unbearable.  9. Fathers who can't find a job in our economy and who feel like a failure because they can't support their family's needs.  10. People who sit in a church and believe they are being good enough to go to heaven, when they've never heard the true gospel spoken to them before.  1. And most importantly...the great number of individuals who have not heard and those who have rejected the Good News of Jesus Christ. It's nothing that I have done that makes me any different than them, but only the grace of God that I took hold of. I won't stand by while my fellow man lives on less than I do every day. I am blessed with food, a better government than many in this world, and parents who love each other and the Lord. I have a life of hope that sustains me better than drugs, a life worth living, and the financial support that only God could supply. And I have a church that preaches the gospel each Sunday and reminds me of how much I need Him.  Lord, never let me forget Your many blessings. Self-pity, worry, and depression keep me from my true potential as Your daughter and servant. Show me how to share my blessings with others, so that I can spread Your Word to everyone I meet. Amen.
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Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 12:26 AM UTC
10 People Who Have It Worse Than Me
(And Reasons Why I Have It Pretty Good) 2. Starving people in Africa who have nothing that even resembles a stable govermnent to keep them safe and fed and alive.  3. Couples going through divorce or recovering from divorce, and their poor children. =\ 4. Drug addicts living on the streets without a family or a hope.  5. Women and children caught up in human trafficking and slavery who have no one to save them.  6. Would-be-mothers who cannot have children. This is heartbreaking for many women.  7. Children abused by their own parents who then have to go through foster care and withstand the constant reminder that they do not have parents that love and care for them.  8. People who have no hope and who believe a bottle of pills is the only way to take away their pain. Life is never a curse, and it is not one's responsibility to take when it becomes unbearable.  9. Fathers who can't find a job in our economy and who feel like a failure because they can't support their family's needs.  10. People who sit in a church and believe they are being good enough to go to heaven, when they've never heard the true gospel spoken to them before.  1. And most importantly...the great number of individuals who have not heard and those who have rejected the Good News of Jesus Christ. It's nothing that I have done that makes me any different than them, but only the grace of God that I took hold of. I won't stand by while my fellow man lives on less than I do every day. I am blessed with food, a better government than many in this world, and parents who love each other and the Lord. I have a life of hope that sustains me better than drugs, a life worth living, and the financial support that only God could supply. And I have a church that preaches the gospel each Sunday and reminds me of how much I need Him.  Lord, never let me forget Your many blessings. Self-pity, worry, and depression keep me from my true potential as Your daughter and servant. Show me how to share my blessings with others, so that I can spread Your Word to everyone I meet. Amen.
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13
**How can you be truly tough In this painful world? How can you stand firm When the spears of agony are hurled? Most people in the proud US of A Don't have a clue of the price they have to pay. Western people do not know What hardship really is. So gratitude is lacking... It is this... Gratitude is having a *** That doesn't leak, To walk miles for diseased Water from a creek. Gratitude in thanking God For the dry wood To cook the rice or millet For your food. Gratitude is finding A pair of shoes In a garbage heap That you can use. Gratitude is finding Pesos in your hand When you beg the streets In a poor land. Gratitude is escaping Vicious thugs Who deal in human Trafficking and drugs. Gratitude is Hellen Keller With no hope Finding Annie Sullivan To cope. Gratitude is having NOTHING And in pain On one's deathbed, but yet The fact remains They are redeemed And they have Lord Jesus' grace So they know that they Will look in his sweet face. Being tough is seeing life As is and still not breaking Being brave and looking Not forsaking Being tough is a Mental attitude. Loving God and thanking Him It's GRATITUDE.** SoulSurvivor Catherine Jarvis (C) September 28, 2014
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Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC
Truly Tough
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 isolation 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!
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Mar 5, 2021
Mar 5, 2021 at 10:46 PM UTC
Human Trafficking
So. You like me as your pastime? Hmm, please take another look And see there's a person attached to it With a full life and dreams, fool! Being such the ardent lover of liver She alit the bus and sat square across a damsel Carrying happy burden; spontaneous loss And on this day, witness to the leaking full...... Teeming thoughts rage on inside Sees a man spitting ceaseless into a mug Spitting, spitting, spitting...!! Now a china teacup .... is all she'll have. Frustration climbs the walls like spiders Leave behind dangling webs of duplicitous ire Spray its viscous poison everywhere A smack, an outburst; ugly scene. Hard to see where it ends, where it starts Tumultuous energy always kept in check Surreptitious trafficking in serendipity Split desires sport with silken threads. Embracing pain which dominates so Heartache elemental dogs every move See you leave, go off alone Hide high grievance, suffocate. Seems this loveware needs reconfiguring Sittin' pretty, like a duck in the water Ain't the way; keeps the target on yer back Life's sometimes quite the storm..... in a Chinese teacup! S T, 03 June 2013
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Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 5:15 AM UTC
Chinese teacup
1435 Not that he goes—we love him more Who led us while he stayed. Beyond earth’s trafficking frontier, For what he moved, he made.
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4.8k
Not that he goes—we love him more
What's your take on walking? My body serves my soul and tells me how to go. My heart, affixed -- aims to show. These ways I’ve walked in my shoes and stockings. I've looked to heaven’s stars, to daylit clouds, when I've stepped out, or dropped my gaze to track the ground. Yes, it is true—whoever passed me by could have taken offense and supposed I lacked my confidence. And ofttimes, I strode out straight and true as if toward a far mist horizon. Un-manifest future, even peek-a-boo, could be comprehended?  I should doubt it. And if I wished to address an occasional in-the-dumps, lost-at-sea feeling, I'd shut my eyes, and walk backwards -- owl-like, swivel 360 my head. Backwards blind circumspection seemed worthy my try; Ask--Who am I? I would story where I’d been. In my most spontaneous of nature foot-trafficking, in roulette walk; my spin of gun chamber click-- ant, spider, beetle, and the occasional sighing snail had fled my shadow shoe? As slow drift clouds in a sky game would play with the sun to hide—creatures had sought me out, sung their farewells?  (it was an excellent day to die) Let me tell it, as it had happened today, and truth says how. My feet, they had gotten to waltz-walking. O how my body and soul danced a-fancy free. Love was brimming out of me; happiness whispered her wordless name; and my tongue tripped nonsensical. So if, at last, you've kept a-pace with me in sympathetic striding, then perhaps you would surmise: there never could be a flat-footed me, when I spout off with poem-talking. Now, what’s your take on walking?
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Oct 31, 2015
Oct 31, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
Walking
What's your take on walking? My body serves my soul and tells me how to go. My heart, affixed -- aims to show. These ways I’ve walked in my shoes and stockings. I've looked to heaven’s stars, to daylit clouds, when I've stepped out, or dropped my gaze to track the ground. Yes, it is true—whoever passed me by could have taken offense and supposed I lacked my confidence. And ofttimes, I strode out straight and true as if toward a far mist horizon. Un-manifest future, even peek-a-boo, could be comprehended?  I should doubt it. And if I wished to address an occasional in-the-dumps, lost-at-sea feeling, I'd shut my eyes, and walk backwards -- owl-like, swivel 360 my head. Backwards blind circumspection seemed worthy my try; Ask--Who am I? I would story where I’d been. In my most spontaneous of nature foot-trafficking, in roulette walk; my spin of gun chamber click-- ant, spider, beetle, and the occasional sighing snail had fled my shadow shoe? As slow drift clouds in a sky game would play with the sun to hide—creatures had sought me out, sung their farewells?  (it was an excellent day to die) Let me tell it, as it had happened today, and truth says how. My feet, they had gotten to waltz-walking. O how my body and soul danced a-fancy free. Love was brimming out of me; happiness whispered her wordless name; and my tongue tripped nonsensical. So if, at last, you've kept a-pace with me in sympathetic striding, then perhaps you would surmise: there never could be a flat-footed me, when I spout off with poem-talking. Now, what’s your take on walking?
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Evil & crime so predictable & stale. Stupid how arrested suspects get bail. Convicted when their victims tell. Prison is where some stay & are jailed. They have to communicate by mail. Sometimes their focus goes in another direction. Where probation happens after correction. Child & spousal abuse, drug use, & rehab that is no use. History repeats Wives & children still get beat. Their isn't always a Superman or Batman to be your hero. With a sword or crossbow. Details of armed robbery , drug dealing & smuggling. Stabbings & muggings. On the inside homosexual love with cuddling. Human trafficking & prostitution. Violating amendments & constitutions. They are how they are from how they were raised. If their victims could speak from the grave Or had they been saved. They could explain & describe how their rapists & killers behaved. Male & females do their time. Years in custody for their crimes. Seriousness of their offenses vary. Some educate, get jobs, or marry. Behind bars is where violence belongs. To be punished for all that they did wrong. Some from death row are now dead. Similar to the wildlife in a zoo behind bars they get fed.
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Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
Darkness Prevails
The Sirens are in love with me. I’m digging a hole so deep, I’d rather continue to dig and dig and dig. The calm winds bring thunderous predictions. Bicycle rides send mixed signals. The Sirens send backup. A victorious guilt has won, But I fear the next day. The snowflakes come swimming in on May 1st, 2013. I’m a lost body browsing for comfort. The Sirens reach their destination. A collection of material items, Will only irritate the burn. I haven’t lived for one billion seconds. My mind is trafficking against my will. The Sirens have won.
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Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
Soul Searching
The woman who had her wings clipped in a car wreck showed me how to swallow truth deep into my throat, how to pull it out with minimal damage - told me being a circus act is easier than being a good person. And it is! worrying about money isn't apple pie, worrying about appearances, disappearances, alien encounters, trafficking, scamming - all so sticky they causes me to gag. When you worry you lose sight of the trophy buck... Which doesn't matter to me, it's your video game - its hooves are in the field, stomping pumpkins and viny gourds to mush.
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Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 7:27 PM UTC
Untitled
Human Trafficking This one thing evolved Such a badly that 31.6 billion dollars Of trade is happening In the world per annum Mostly women and Some young girls They were harassed Sexually, sometimes forced To marry someone or making them Slaves and more that I cannot Explain them in words Because knowing about it I became dumb They are tortured and given electrical Shocks if they refuse their offer Many are affected with *** They offer a job by telling about The packages and the accommodation And finally when they are in their traps They will show their evil faces and Torture them
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Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 11:20 PM UTC
610. Pray to save them