As told to Soul Scribe the Poet
When do little girls learn about the power between their legs?
Is it when their sibling’s bellies are swollen and need to be fed?
Urban communities breed neglected little boys and girls, leaving them hopeless.
No hope for a better tomorrow.
Beautiful children’s eyes filled with so much pain and sorrow.
Men who are supposed to protect only prey on the weak.
Little girls sell their bodies just to eat.
Predators peruse these city streets like grocery stores in search of fresh meat.
They see neighborhood children as tasty treats.
How does a 13-year-old girl get past the pain?
Old, sweaty, drunken men climbing on top of them forever imprinted in their brains.
White sheets stained.
Souls forever changed just for change.
Can you smell that?
Some scents can’t be washed away even after a shower.
Hundreds of children are sold in American every hour.
Little vaginas stuffed with fully-grown penises.
Prostitution was not on this child’s list of what she wanted to be.
She just wanted to live a happy life like Ken and Barbie.
We have a problem America and no one wants to talk about it.
This will be our dirty little secret.
Let’s keep this between you and me.
Her mother said no one is supposed to touch her down there.
I often wonder…where did the missing children on milk cartons go?
Do we pass them on the streets asleep or on their knees?
This is our supply and demand.
Girls under the age of 16 falling into pedophiliac hands.
Turning them into damaged good.
Souls for Sale.
Grown men craving little girl printed flower panties.
Close your eyes…lie down on the bed, open your legs.
It’ll be over before you know it.
Then you can go to the corner store to buy that sandwich, potato chips and a soda.
And do the same thing tomorrow…This vicious cycle.
Why do we cover our eyes…pretend like it’s not there.
I hold my son’s hand very tight in public places.
Our silence is a disgrace.
Where is our conviction for more convictions and lengthier prison sentences?
Sexual exploitation is multiplying in our nation.
The more silent we are the more it grows.
Some children make it out alive.
Some are the walking dead.
Tarnished and broken souls.
Who will come to their aid?
I imagine you think this had absolutely nothing to do with you.
If you remain silent, it’s the side of the oppressor in which you choose
This is a war between life and death in which we must not lose.
This story originally appeared in Facing Sex Trafficking: Atlanta’s Dirty Little Secret, a publication of The Facing Project that was organized by AIB TV in Atlanta, Georgia.