Poetry Protest

STOP THE TRAFFIK wants to feature the touching words of a woman who was inspired by the life and story of a young girl, Svetlana, who was a victim of human trafficking. This poem has been selected from a series of works and empathises in a striking way with the trauma and horror that the victims of trafficking suffer. Please leave your comments below to let us know how this poem has moved you.


I feel a heavy hand upon my shoulder

As the elevator door closes

Instinctively I know that I am the prey

From dominance into submission

Is the downtrodden path I walk every day.


A black veil we call it, is pressing upon my heart

Christians claim to love their brethren, yet we are worlds apart

Images flash through my mind

As a camera fixed in slow shudder speed

I become an embarrassment, much like excrement under your shoe

Full of gut wrenching fear with no want or need.


We are kept prisoner in the underbelly of society

From those who scorn or detest us, those we could defile

Hidden from their sight and memory

Abhorred much like an illegitimate child

 I must swallow the bile as it rises up in my throat

Ever hopeful that one man, just one

May find his conscience, be it ever so remote

Push away those bitter tears

Keep a stoic face to quell my fears


The sweet stench of money, as sinister as it may sound

Imagine that, to barter with my virginity

I must negotiate to reach a common ground

To be heard, to be loved is a foreign concept

I must attend to the gash on my lip before it becomes a whelp


For if there was no demand—

That translates to demons of man

There would be no need for supply

My youth would not be stripped away

You see, I would not have to die.

At night before slumber comes and I retreat,

I often think, “Where is God, why doesn’t He speak?”


2 thoughts on “Poetry Protest

  1. Miriam

    i agree. but why is it the men? why in the first placce did people decide that the men were better? where did it come from, all this prejudice against women? it’s stupid

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