Trafficked

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I wanted to write a poem in a monologue style from the point of view of a victim of human trafficking. The poem draws upon vivid imagery, metaphor, and irregular line breaks to capture the emotional and mental trauma that many victims face due to this global web of slavery.  

 

It’s not these bars of steel
and chains
that hold me captive here.
But bars of flesh and bone.
My captors seek to
steal my soul
for their greed and
selfish gain.
I am worth a great deal.
Or so they say.
But I am one among many
of the forgotten,

the invisible, who have been deceived
by the promise of
fame and fortune.

My leaking heart bleeds as I wait
fearfully
as the auctioneer’s voice
rings out –

a hiss like steam
escaping
from the pit

of perdition.

My body is on demand and display.
A priceless artifact.
The rabid bidding rises to a crescendo.
My blood pounds
in my ears.

Discarded,
I sit huddled in a darkened room
awaiting my next master,
who will ravage my innocence
strip and

leave me

bare.

In eyes that once surged with life,
a sliver of hidden hope
twinkles

in
the darkness.

 

 

Image:

Light

Pexels.

Pixabay.com

 

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