Rachael

(poems go here) Rachael* She is a whisper silent harmonica, With a song that isn’t able to whistle through broken pipe holes Because the walls of her uterus have tumbled down As if the Great Wall of China wasn’t solid enough to hold itself up against a treble Clef. Wyoming cries Because its daughter has just been targeted A victim of human trafficking, Eight year old Rachael was one of many children, who scraped their feet on dirt roads In Lines of four, Holding hands like shackles on loan from the slave masters of Kunta-kente. Wearing Harriet Tubman’s, “how could you” facial expression as Rachael was being Sold Like platanos and papayas to men and women who care nothing for her. What kind of late night monsters must you be, To buy, and steal a little girl’s innocence from her memory, and call it discipline. Tell me; what derives do you get from little girls? At the age of 8, Rachael They will never understand the mistakes they’ve made. Mistakes, That have been broken between heaven, and hell Rachael will carry the beauty of heavens comfort Walk on the spears of hells flames Jesus You said walk by fith and not by sight But walking to you seems like walking on damaged eyelids And I can’t understand The way God Holds little Rachael in his hands But it still seems as if mankind has snatched her. Humanity! How could you ruin the children and think it’s okay? How screwed does your mind really have to be to take them? Explain it to me Because in the twinkle of her eye Rachael has eagle spread legs and twisted faced Father figures Are spoiling her features, transforming her womb into a graveyard Rachael. Your stifled screams behind paper walls of hotel rooms are drowned out by the sound Of Aluminum birds, the helicoptors reflections in your glistening eyes Horses galloping down your torso With cross roads burning between your thighs Wyoming! Can’t you hear your daughter crying? Like middle school snicthes get stiches, you hold your toungues out of fear of Sleeping eternally with dust particle flowers And make sure you bite your tongue and cross your fingers that she isn’t dead Because I can’t hear her fighting in the room next door anymore. Rachael. Are you there? Rachael. Can you hear me call your name girl? Just before your mother put you up for apdoption Lift you like a sacrfice to the devil, But do you think its possible to find your humanity once you have lost it? Rachael young warrior. Will wear the code survivor creaset into her cheat. We’ve etched your name as the 14th amendment. Rachael. History books can now tell how Santa Ana winds swept your hair With harp strings that played broken breaths from your diaphragm Rachael. Your story proves that fairytales exist in non-fiction fables. Because some believe that Human Trafficking is another I got raped and my mother sold me story But I’ll be the first to carve your face right next to George Washington in Mt. Rushmore. Because this poem is for you Rachael. Rachael* She is a whisper silent harmonica, With a song that isn’t able to whistle through broken pipe holes Because the walls of her uterus have tumbled down As if the Great Wall of China wasn’t solid enough to hold itself up against a treble Clef. Wyoming cries Because its daughter has just been targeted A victim of human trafficking, Eight year old Rachael was one of many children, who scraped their feet on dirt roads In Lines of four, Holding hands like shackles on loan from the slave masters of Kunta-kente. Wearing Harriet Tubman’s, “how could you” facial expression as Rachael was being Sold Like platanos and papayas to men and women who care nothing for her. What kind of late night monsters must you be, To buy, and steal a little girl’s innocence from her memory, and call it discipline. Tell me; what derives do you get from little girls? At the age of 8, Rachael They will never understand the mistakes they’ve made. Mistakes, That have been broken between heaven, and hell Rachael will carry the beauty of heavens comfort Walk on the spears of hells flames Jesus You said walk by fith and not by sight But walking to you seems like walking on damaged eyelids And I can’t understand The way God Holds little Rachael in his hands But it still seems as if mankind has snatched her. Humanity! How could you ruin the children and think it’s okay? How screwed does your mind really have to be to take them? Explain it to me Because in the twinkle of her eye Rachael has eagle spread legs and twisted faced Father figures Are spoiling her features, transforming her womb into a graveyard Rachael. Your stifled screams behind paper walls of hotel rooms are drowned out by the sound Of Aluminum birds, the helicoptors reflections in your glistening eyes Horses galloping down your torso With cross roads burning between your thighs Wyoming! Can’t you hear your daughter crying? Like middle school snicthes get stiches, you hold your toungues out of fear of Sleeping eternally with dust particle flowers And make sure you bite your tongue and cross your fingers that she isn’t dead Because I can’t hear her fighting in the room next door anymore. Rachael. Are you there? Rachael. Can you hear me call your name girl? Just before your mother put you up for apdoption Lift you like a sacrfice to the devil, But do you think its possible to find your humanity once you have lost it? Rachael young warrior. Will wear the code survivor creaset into her cheat. We’ve etched your name as the 14th amendment. Rachael. History books can now tell how Santa Ana winds swept your hair With harp strings that played broken breaths from your diaphragm Rachael. Your story proves that fairytales exist in non-fiction fables. Because some believe that Human Trafficking is another I got raped and my mother sold me story But I’ll be the first to carve your face right next to George Washington in Mt. Rushmore. Because this poem is for you Rachael.