Trafficked

I used to have dreams,

I used to feel joy,

I used to have a family,

But now I am a toy.

I could be your friend.

I am but an object,

My status as someone sold away,

These invisible chains I wear,

Dig into me every day.

I could be your sister.

My body once innocent,

Is now battered and bruised,

I try to forget,

But the scars remind me how I am abused.

I could be your mother.

Far away from home,

Far away from hope,

Trapped in abuse,

My dreams turned to smoke.

I could be you.

I thought slavery was a thing of the past,

A thing of years gone,

But there are more people enslaved today,

Than those now done.

Even though my life is left in nothing but debris, I ask you just one thing:

Please Help Me.