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?”