trafficking
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[STROPHE 1 – Strings scream, brass snarl]She lies splattered, a blob of paint on the bed,Her head in the clouds with the wandering dead.A child in her teens, her body a wreck,A dozen diseases claw deep in her neck. Antibiotics choke the fire in her veins,But the Lord only knows what still remains.Psychotic rivers pumped
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“The Pretty Waif” is a harrowing poem that plunges us into the brutal world of human trafficking. The speaker confronts us with the image of a young girl, barely a teenager, trapped in a nightmarish reality. We are not offered a romanticized view of prostitution, but a stark portrayal of a life stolen,
Addy's Verse 