A poem for Carry On Tuesday. I've also linked it to the Sunday Scribblings prompt 'honest' although the subject of my piece was actually a victim of dishonesty.
Slipping in and out of the shadows,
hiding in dank doorways.
Sliding into view when a car appears.
Dressed to allure, revealed to tempt.
She came here on a promise
from her home overseas.
Lured by a job, a home and a future.
Little did she know what awaited her.
Concealed at a safe distance,
her sinister pimp skulks in the shadows;
watching as his terrified victim
plies his loathsome trade.
One day she will disappear.
Unknown, anonymous, a number.
To be replaced by another
then another and another and another.
Very clever poem of a very sad fact of life for a broken flower
ReplyDeleteHaving been lured by the dishonesty there is no turning back. You wonder at what point could the story have become a less disastrous one and the answer is impossible to find.
ReplyDeleterevenge is brewing
ReplyDeleteI would like to say there is hope..for her..and the next woman..but some truths are clear..however brutal..although even the cruellest cycles can be broken..a sensitive and poignant write..jae
ReplyDeletedoes she stand a chance against the stalker?
ReplyDeletesenryu of blues & honesty
And so the story goes on..............
ReplyDeletesomehow the end doesnt seem to be the real end afterall...
ReplyDeleteSad but true. Nice write, Keith!
ReplyDeleteGirls are sold into these lives sometimes and other times, they choose this world, desperate to find comfort and identity. I'm sad for her, there really is no hope, and for all of the other numbers.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I forget the world is still a bad, scary place...
ReplyDeleteScary shadows.
ReplyDeleteTerrifying and true. Captured very well, Keith. :)
ReplyDelete