Tags
child abuse, immigration, orphan, Poem, Poetry, Rape, rubaiyat, sexual slavery
The moment….opportunity!
The door ajar, taunts liberty.
Unknowns without, the only way,
so Mariana brokenly
ran through the door, through all the day,
A child of eight, who knew not play,
with parents lost enroute up north,
from aunt and uncle, run away.
Had parents known, she’d not been birthed,
for three years past, she wore no worth
her pain-filled face, those bodies meet
with dirty feelings – sordid sort.
Twelve miles burnt on a freeway’s heat,
those passing by – uncaring fleet,
unmoved by love, this girl petite,
her sex abused, her road-bled feet.
Over at DVersePoets, we are writing about fear. Why don’t you come over and haunt us a bit.
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I fear for these young orphaned girls, no freedom and choices in their lives ~
Such a lovely form to write about a tragic situation ~ Thanks for the share ~
ugh….dont know if i catch the whole story in this….there is enough between the road and sex abuse….and those ignoring her…ugh….that makes me a bit sick….
This is based off something that happened here locally a few years back. It is a sad tale, hard to get out of my head. The worst thing is that the frequency of this is probably higher than I’d care to know.
Not a cheery tale, but evoked a spectrum of emotions. I’m left with sympathy for a young child.
The child was eventually picked up and cared for, though ultimately I don’t know the current situation, much improved I’m sure.
so very sad…
Incredible damage and horror
So sad. Well done!
Thanks Madeleine,