A poem about human rights, storytime for the 10th of December international day for human rights.
Hello, readers new and old ones, welcome to my blog. Today I have decided to do something different. I am going to write a poem about the importance of human rights. And I am going to freestyle write this. Meaning I just type the letters my fingers feel like tapping
The Story of Juan
It's 7 am and I have no idea where I am.
The only thing I can remember is talking to that funny-looking man.
My vision is still blurry.
While regaining consciousness I can tell this man is in a hurry.
What about mama and pappa do you think they will worry?
I feel scared and hungry.
The car we are in is closed completely.
The windows are covered so I can't tell if it's sunny.
A week has gone by.
I miss home and when I think of mama I cry.
Do mama and papa worry?
I know they will come looking for me
And when they do I will be free.
I work hard every day for the men.
They beat me whenever they can.
Not because I have been bad or done wrong.
Sometimes I try to fight back, but they are too strong.
Months have gone by
I still cry, I still cry.
But when I cry there are no tears.
My cries must not reach the men their ears.
Some days they make me go hungry.
Some days they make me do things for money.
The nights get colder and I still wonder if mama and pappa worry?
Will they come for me or have they forgotten me?
Maybe they replaced me, does mommy still sing at night.
I dream of her voice when I feel sick at night,
I dream of how papa would feed me ice cream.
And in my dream, I dream that my waking life is a dream.
A year has gone by and I still cry.
Mama and papa why?
My heart seems empty and cold.
I feel nothing, not even when they make me stand outside in the cold.
Sometimes I wish I had a hand to hold.
I vaguely remember mama, has papa gotten old?
I don't remember my birthday.
But I asked Mama and Papa to get me a cake because today is my birthday.
I am free of the evil men.
Thanks to the woman and the man who brought the policemen.
They tried to hide us in a dark room for weeks end.
They would tell us to keep quiet, or just like my friend Joana our lives would end.
Joanna made me smile every day, when the men beat me she would give me food.
Joanna would get beaten as well whenever she got caught, in my heart I knew she was good.
Seeing what they did to Joanna made me brave and not scared like the stories Mama told me when I was in a sad mood. So when I heard the policemen walking up the stair...
When I heard the policemen walking upstairs I yelled as if my lungs were filled with air.
After that, I seemed to have blacked out, but mama and papa.
Mama cried in tears when she held me in her arms, and Papa turned away papa is after al papa. I could tell he didn't want to see me cry. I wanted to tell him, papa, it's okay to cry. Because I know what it's like to cry. Mama and Papa did come for me. They didn't forget about me or lose hope of finding me. You might wonder what happened to the bad men.
I had to testify before people who scared the bad men.
They put them behind bars.
But will time remove the pain they gave me and my family, or will it leave a mark like scars?
This year on the 10th of December, an international day for human rights, and the 70th anniversary of the human rights declaration I dedicate this story to children who are being trafficked and used as slaves around the world. I hope that one day this can be a problem of the past. No child deserves to be torn away from their loved ones in this manner. May the brave men and women who keep fighting for these children know that their work is highly appreciated and important for upholding faith in humanity. Their work will one day make this world better in a way. I hope more children their lives are saved and that this problem can be completely eradicated.
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