A young girl in a “Little Kitty” nightgown rides past on her
tiny pink bicycle. I have watched her grow up in this bar.
Last week, she still had training wheels.
Now she rides wobbly and free down the dark brothel lined alley.
She must be about 7 years old now.
I want to celebrate her accomplishment and then...
I remember where I am, where she lives.
The wolves hunt, they devour and consume and I roar with the
pain of it, the grief over those for whom victory never comes.
I cry out for the 12 year old mama and her 1 month old baby
returned to those who exploited her...
And for the 20 young ones who were not rescued
because the traffickers were tipped off.