Freeing the Trafficked

She sits alone, facing the crowd

The harshest words are clearer now

For as they barter, she streams a tear

Down each cheek, kept in fear.

A price is found, she rises to meet

The daily torture of bitter defeat.

A body, a room, and never free

Is all she ever thinks she’ll ever be.

The talk is coarse, she’s vilified

By men who beat her with their pride

With their sickness fill her mind

With their cruelty, twist her insides.

A child, an image is what they desire

Feeding a ceaseless, restless fire

That burns innocence for hire.

And yet, in that moment there is a sound

Of hope that’s heard from underground. 

A tune that sings of broken hearts

A music that started from in the dark,

The song is heard by those in power

And shame the strong up in their tower

And call to the weak, “This is your hour!”

Then justice would run down every street

Break down the doors that hide the deceit.

Restore the futures of people enslaved

For children who are bought, 

For women who are scathed 

And never again let the darkness stay.

This is my dream, my hope, my call

That true freedom would exist for all

And that our institutions would seek to save

The 27 million people enslaved today!