By 
The Human Trafficker
A poem by Sarah
Age: 15
The Human Traffickers couldn’t realize their own stupidity
They don’t see the pain of a 7-year-old taken away from their family
All they see is the dirty money earned without guilt
The mental pain of a family after hearing a loved one is gone without a goodbye
Seeing a red zip tie without realizing it’s harm to the family
Having to look left, right, and behind you every two seconds while walking to the store
Having the fear that the Human Trafficker will take you at your best moments
Never know when you’ll be back
Never knowing whether you’re 10 minutes away from home or all the way to Equatorial Guinea
I should be able to be walk to my garage without fear
I shouldn’t have to worry about my mom walking around the block
Children shouldn’t have to work for a penny while making your billions
Children shouldn’t have to work for one meal a day while you eat three meals a day without care
They steal the most precious thing from children
And that’s their years of life
No more toys, no more games, and no more crying for ice cream
It’s crying for their own freedom
They call this the land of the free but to me, it’s land of the capture
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