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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required What does innocence cost, you ask? It seems it's just a grand, For I know a girl who had hers sold By her Aunt, in a foreign land. They sold her soul at fiftteen, To a middle-aged traveling gent, Who filmed it all for the internet, In a dirty basement rent. She begged her aunt to spare her, To not let this monster soil The cherished gift God gave her, For an hour's salacious toil. She swore to help them honestly, And work three jobs, if needed, But this was quick, the die was cast, No matter how she pleaded. She screamed and cried when the hour came, While the man did what he pleased, And she prayed God wouldn't see her, That her aunt would be appeased. When thru, the sheets were bloody, And she hurt so down below, But bloodier still, her spirit, (Though that wound didn't show). He let her use the hotel's bath To clean the vile mess, And gave her fifteen dollars To replace her ruined dress. "A buck for every year!" he laughed, And threw it on the floor, Then yelled at her "Get out of here!" "You filthy little whore!" Well, with those words, his horrid act, And the soul he stripped away, Over time that's what she's now become, Though she makes a grand each day. See, they didn't just rob her virtue, They put her soul to death ... Now she curses him and her auntie, With every living breath ... And she doesn't need her faith now, There's no happiness or mirth, For no God could ever repay her ... For what her soul was worth. ~ 7th Place ~ in the "HASHTAGmetoo" Poetry Contest", Debbie Guzzi, Judge & Sponsor. ~ 1st Place ~ in the "Let's Talk About It" Poetry Contest, Richard Lamoureux, Judge & Sponsor.
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