a people stripped voiceless.
uncommon faces dripping with familiarity pass mine.
swollen eyes unsure to connect, afraid no sound
will escape their lips.
breath is the closest thing to life they have.
i saw a young girl yesterday.
eyes glazed over with shame.
imitating intimacy was all she knew.
her once fresh face is now timed.
as she lays, awaiting this ignominy she
yearns to pick the locks that keeps her chained,
and play.
Can I dawn the threads that harbor her tears.
Can I walk in the shoes buried in her sorrow.
I indirectly feed her direct imprisonment.
I push for commodities that use her as a commodity.
The longer I continue, the faster she deteriorates.
A prayer of deliverance will not suffice.
For only outstretched arms will save her.
There are 27 million slaves being trafficked today.
13.5 million are children.
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