Look beyond what you see

 

Standing on the side of the street,

This girl,

Lost in a world of lies and deceit,

Hanging around for the man who will come,

And for one moment,

Make her forget she is alone.


He takes her in his arms,

Giving her false security,

Neglecting the fact that she is twelve,

And he is thirty.


Yet what does it matter,

Who really cares,

As long as he pays,

He can lust over her with his creepy stares.

She’s only twelve, twelve years old,

Imagine, if it was different,

And not a random,

but your sister being sold.

Maybe you don’t know her,

Standing late at night,

Whistling down strangers,

As she conceals her internal fright.

 Maybe you know her sister,

The girl on the screen,

The one posing naked,

Seen by multitudes of misters.

 Yeah you jerk off to her,

But what does it matter,

She wanted to do it,

It’s her job, she’s an actor.

 

Why? Why is it such a big bad issue?

Well, while you dream of her,

Imaging her all over you,

The reality is she’s slumped in the corner,

Weeping as the director barks yet another order.

Do this, do that,

his voice carries round,

if she doesn’t comply,

it’ll mean another blow to the ground.

 

Have you wondered why she’s covered up in so much makeup,

Its not to look good for you,

But from the abuse she suffered,

That part,

that part must stay covered.

 That smile,

That pose,

All a mask,

To hide the fact,

Inside she is broken apart.

 

Here’s my question,

My question to you,

What if you were too look beyond,

deep into her heart,

somewhere further than the superficial façade.

What would you find, the sexy girl in the picture,

Or a fragmented person,

or something of that mixture.

 Now, take another step back,

imagine she was your daughter,

Would you still lust over her,

Would you still be all for her.

 No didn’t think so,

Oh what’s that your say?

That’s disgusting, that’s really gross,

Oh I agree,

but I’m not the one growing this sickening industry.

 Did you ever wonder, maybe, where all the girl’s came from?

Was it a certain country,

Or school,

Because I would love to find one.

A girl that would be so willingly do such crazy things,

That I didn’t have to tie down,

that I didn’t have to buy her a ring.

 

Well, my dear, if you thought the daughter thing was bad,

You haven’t heard anything yet.

Some go through traffickers,

who sell them to the one with the highest bet,

others are stolen from home,

often eastern Europe and taken to Rome.

Where they don’t know the language,

Don’t know the people,

Similar to a newbie,

Sitting in the pew below the steeple.

But that’s lucky.

What happens to them if they get pregnant?

If they have a baby?

They send the child off to a farm for training.

Instead of plants and crops,

Perverted men lay with them.

Defiling their innocence,

Teaching them the life of corruption,

Know do you finally understand my burstof furious eruption.

I can’t stand back and watch this happen,

Close off my ears, close off my eyes

and let the darkness shout out these lies.

 

But I can’t do it alone,

That I know as true,

And after hearing such things,

 it is difficult to know what to do.

But I know there is hope,

There is a One,

One who can seep into the deepest cracks,

 The darkest places

And bring out the beauty once again onto their faces.

 

To see the video blog that explains this poem, check out: https://www.facebook.com/thatrelationshipcolumn