My Soul Turned To Rain

A Poem by kollaboratyve

This poem is to bring attention to the child sex trade in this world

Today I was born a girl. Today I am five years old; by way of poverty, no astonishing gifts to show. I am very happy just to have a piece of bread once a day.

Who are these who knock at my father’s door? come they too say hello,

friends we do not know, a bag he gives my father, I get happy, maybe a gift for me on my five birthday,

father commands my mother too get my clothes,

confused where are we going

in the dead of night,

Dangers lurking in the shadows of night.

The stranger grasps my hand

abruptly.

Father and mother I call for them.

Money pours from the bag in my father’s hands,

distracts the memory of my plea unheard.

Bound and gagged a long bumpy ride. I am on the

wings of confusion and fear.

Finally the car stops,

thrown in a room full of little girls crying.

A rude voice pierces my ear.

Take all your clothes off,

my soul cries for my mommy and daddy but they do not answer.

Large shadow enters the rooms he says happy birthday, he seems nice,

wiping my teary eyes,

lays me on the dirty floor, he caress me down there gently where no one should go. No, no, please stop! Mommy daddy where are you. He is on top of me screaming in pleasure.

I scream in pain, he slaps me violently.

My soul turns to rain.

Turning me over my face to the floor

I feel like my bowels are gone too come out of me,

no more. Sharp jabbing pain grips my body it is over now.

Blood and bowel he wipes off himself,

another bag exchanges hands,

I am fifthtenth on tomorrow, and I was born a girl.

I am no more an untarnished pearl.

I still want my mommy and daddy; does anyone know how to find them?