The Endless Evening

Was I wrong?  I lifted the bangs past my eyes and decided to walk forward.  The rest of my life was set aside for traffic.  But in that moment I moved.  I could hear the drum beating.  In step I waltzed.  Issue after issue met with indifference.  Their eyes cold with film.

It’s the endless evening. I resuscitate and forward I move.

My name was ________. It took most of this life to reach yours.

My knees shook as they took turns.  Rifles high and boots undone.

Was I wrong?  I lifted the ashes past these eyes and conceded to step back. Chains and chants have met the stars and telethon lines. Still you sit and plan. You praise the skies and pat your backs.  Still I sift through this childhood with a price on my head and a hand on my hips.  I’ve been taken.

My name was ________ and will never be the same.

It’s the endless evening all over again.

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This issue of Human Trafficking is our generation’s responsibility.  To learn more about how you can get involved check out this upcoming trip from The World Race | Human Trafficking Edition.