A poem of many streets

Can I get the right,

To express,

In this strange world.

Do I have a heart,

To remain,

In this strange land,

In the middle of darkness

I was a dreamer once,

As a young girl ,

I try to remember the,

Faces of my close ones.

I came here as a girl,

I am sold for money,

To men's all over the world.

Those who can afford me.

I am not married,

But used again and again,

By different men.

Each street has it's own story.

With a different "girl".

After some years,

I shed tears to live and to be free.

For my family i am a old stock,

They want to get rid off.

And sooner as i turn old,

I would no longer exist,

For my family,

Because I become,

A responsibility soon,

To be get rid off.

Though they don't free me,

But leave me in dark,

All alone and lonely.

If I am a mother of a girl,

And if I have my own family

It will be with no identity.

I came here as a girl,

And i die as a girl.

Some men just buy me,

To give birth to a child,

For their family.

This is a deal off,

Because that's how a girl is treated.

And now just a soul that once lived,

A soul with no role .

It is a shocking story,

Of a land far away

Where eight man rape a goat!

To fulfil their lust,

And the usual thing is they go away free.

The head of the village,

Will have a gathering ,

And will pay the amount,

The owner of the goat asked for.

And then boom they are free again.

Here is the question,

Every girl asked,

Do we really belong here?

What is our character here ?

In this strange place are there "living souls" too ?

Does Really The Word "Humanity" Exists??

~Me.🥀