Below is the poem entitled SCARS LEFT BEHIND which was written by poet
Carrillo. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Scars Left Behind
It was about 3:00 AM On a cold October night.
I was coming out of work It was a Wednesday
night. We got off early on week days, on weekends
we had to work 12 hours straight. Still wearing my
uniform, cause I was a waitress, I was walking to
a Taxi Stand.
All of a sudden, a car pulls up and blocks my way.
two men got out and grabed me, threw me into the
car on the front seat. In the back seat they had another
young girl about my age. She was crying two men were
holding her. In the front was the driver and the other
man with me.
The driver pointed a gun at me. He told me to be quiet
The other man held me and they drove away. I didn't
know who these men were, but I had seen the driver in
the restaurant a few times. He never talked much, only
gave his order and paid when they were done. But he
always looked at me kind of strange.
They kepted us all day and took us to bars and tried to
give us to eat, but we didn't eat. They also took us where
there was a lot of men, they told us - this is our gang and
if you go to the police, we will kill your boyfriends and your
family too. We were too scared to do anything, but cry.
That night , they took us to a cheap hotel. I don't know what
they did to the other girl - I never saw her again. To me The
driver of the car told me that he had always liked me. I beg him
to leave me alone, but he tore my clothes, beat me up and raped
me. The next morning about 5:00 AM they took me and threw me
in a street close to where they had picked me up.
I was able to get to my cousin's aparment. She just started to cry
when she saw me. For three days I could not go to work, but life
goes on. Those are the SCARS left behind. The one that no one
can see, but they are there and to this day I can't forget. When I
think of those days - I still get the chills. I was only nineteen...
Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo
Another part of my life. For