I seem to be saying this a lot….sorry

Guys. I’m not blogging as frequently, which is bad. However, school and health must come first. Over the last week, I have been unable to write or type to a certain degree. This was due to a repetitive strain injury on my right hand. I had done too much writing as I was constantly doing past papers, writing notes and keeping up with my vivid imagination and it took its toll on my hand. Now, I am back but it is the Christmas period. Holidays start soon and I have a play on next weekened, then new years and then exams. I am so busy, I barely have time to blog. But I shall endeavour to post at least once a week, hopefully, more and will do my best not to let you guys down.

 

Sorry again. 🙂

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Forgotten

Another poem about Human Trafficking that I wrote during spare seconds today. 🙂 Enjoy!

 

Forgotten, but no stranger to neglect or pain,

Deep in depression, each day passes, still feel the same

Cuts on your body, some from him, others from your hand.

You remember when you had your future planned,

Those plans didn’t include falling for him,

Getting addicted to drugs and doing them,

It didn’t involve depression or trying to die,

It didn’t involve partying and getting high.

When you stepped in that car you thought your dreams,

Were coming true, or so it seemed,

Now you look back and curse your teen brain,

You look around and only see pain,

Every time you look in the mirror,

The tattoos remind you, you’re her,

The girl who people call…you can’t even repeat,

But you know you’ll die if you don’t act sweet,

So you act, put on a smile, a laugh, it’s all fake,

You pretend you enjoy it, that your heart doesn’t ache,

You entertain, you pretend, you give them what they want.

You put on makeup to cover the fact your face is gaunt

Paint on a smile, try not to look like the joker,

Take on extra jobs for the younger girl so they won’t hurt her,

Put on makeup, jewellery, a little black dress,

Stand by the side of the road, hope to impress,

Cos if you don’t, you won’t get that pay,

And if you don’t get that pay, you might not live another day.

The Truth, part three

The final part is here!

London to Africa all around the world

Men and women are exploiting boys and girls,

We can’t witness 90% of the horror these people go through

We don’t know about half the things they have to do.

Forced prostitution and sexual abuse,

Trapped in a place of no escape for people to use.

Americans and Africans, they’re all alike,

Sold for sex, organs, and labour alike.

Children and adults, slaves to the harsh

Forced to love in a brothel, dye silk, fish in a marsh,

Treated with cruelty since they can remember,

No fire burns in their soul, there’s hardly an ember,

They exist even if they are invisible,

They’re still humans even if they aren’t able

To cry for help, to hold out a weak hand

Begging on their knees cos they can’t stand

Can you imagine a fate where you can’t be free

Where being a slave is all you can be

These are people, humans who deserve freedom, a life,

We need to stand together to deliver them from strife,

They have no hope, all they can see is death,

So why, when they call out, are we being deaf?

The Truth, a human trafficking poem part two

Continuing on from yesterdays post, this is part two.

She’s no saint, but she’s no devil either

She struggling needs food and water,

Needs another fix to take her high,

The high will turn to a low as she’s abused by another.

Sold because she’s beautiful and innocent,

or she was, hurt’s changed her face so it isn’t.

She looked to him for love, not hate,

And now he uses drugs as a bait.

Drinks to numb her senses whilst in the bed,

And if she refuses, she could end up dead.

Look in her head, see the nightmare she’s living,

look at all the parts of herself she’s giving.

She put up a fight, ended with wounds to heal,

Put in a cupboard, refused a simple meal,

she exists alongside the other hundreds who want to die,

Slaves to the traffic, low, even when they are high.

Needing to be shown love, need someone to say the words,

To show that their ears were open to the cries they heard.

They aren’t saints, but they aren’t sinners,

They lost every battle when they were told they’d be the winners.

This is a poem for awareness, listen to this

Whilst you live your life, remember they exist. 

 

The truth, human trafficking poem part one

So this is part one of a very long poem on human trafficking, Enjoy!

The needle hums, the pain is sharp, a cut in the skin,

5 lines to show that she belongs to him

a tattoo on her neck, it will be there for eternity,

she’ll be with him as long, there is no certainty.

She doesn’t know if she’ll be alive when the sun hits the sky,

Sometimes she thinks it would just be better to die

Gone through night, now go all day,

she doesn’t have free will, it’s his choice, his way.

The clothes she wears are paid for through her body,

he says he loves her but she feels like a nobody.

Screaming but no one hears in the dead of night,

fell victim to the promises that he would treat her right.

no one realizes her pain exists,

they don’t realize her existence is based on this,

They can tell there’s a problem, blame the hormones, blame the teen,

But there might be more than meets the eye to be seen. 

Sorry…..

Sorry guys! Been blogging less and less at the moment, reason being, my life is so busy! I have been doing schoolwork, learning languages, not to mention plays and other social requirements. (Church etc) Anyways, I’m sorry I haven’t been blogging recently and am trying to get some blog posts out a week. I have the day off today so I’m catching up on the blogging aspect of things alongside other tasks.

I’m currently a member of a company who are putting on a play in three weeks. This, of course, is taking up a large amount of my time, (Seriously, the night passes in seconds, and the day even faster!) I haven’t actually had a day off in about three weeks since we arrived home from holiday. However, I enjoy acting and making people laugh and would not swap it for anything in the world.

Schoolwork wise I’m working away at English literature and am doing pretty well. It involves a lot of memorization and writing about some seriously silly things, but writing is my passion so I enjoy it really. Alongside this I’m doing law, my exam is in May and, whilst I find it MUCH harder than other subjects, I love it soooo much! Latin is going just the same as usual. I have chosen to take the exam 2019 instead of 2018 because I struggle with certain parts of it. The only other subject I do is maths and I shall refrain from telling you my feelings on that. (IT’S THE WORST SUBJECT EVER!)

Alongside schoolwork, I’m writing regularly, though not blogging so much, and am looking into self-publishing. Poetry and rap/spoken word is where my passion currently lies when it comes to writing and I have been writing and rapping every day, mainly about human trafficking.

Human trafficking, it was going to be mentioned. I found out so much more about this crime and am more determined than ever to stop it. I’m currently considering Photo-Journalism as a career choice because I can capture the Traffick through photos and write a thousand words to go along with. My next few blog posts are going to be about human trafficking, but that’s not for now. 🙂

Sorry again for not being active much, I really try but life is currently at my heels, trying to overtake me. Sorry.

Help her

Living on the street, found senseless by a bin.

Blamed for her misfortune, prosecuted for a sin,

One she didn’t commit, forced against her will,

Going all night until the men have had their fill.

Still, look there, her eyes are white,

She went to tell the police, tried, again and again, to make it right.

Gave any money she earned to the man who spoke of love, marriage, a life!

But still managed to threaten her with fire, a gun, a knife!

And yet she still believed what he said was true,

Trusted him when he said ‘I love you’

Didn’t realize she was being trafficked and used,

That she was being damaged and abused,

In a life, she never actually wanted to live,

Giving parts of herself she never wanted to give,

Waiting for someone to actually care, get her past the horror,

Someone who truly wanted to help her.