*This poem was written from the perspective of the close friend of an exploited youth. It describes the sort of issues which may have occurred, the scenes she may have witnessed and the denial (at the end) to accept the fact that she was repeating the cycle. It was written, not only to illustrate how CSE can begin but also how (almost subconsciously) we can fall into the trap of grooming. It is not written to offend, nor to assume. Each case, situation and reason behind CSE is different, this is just one of them.
You knew my friend,
You took her out.
Got into your car,
And drove about.
You left at four,
Came back at six.
She said she'd had,
A real good blitz.
You came again,
And went back out.
You bought her flowers,
And drove about.
You came back,
A bit late this time,
Because it had just,
Gone half-past nine.
But it was alright,
You were just a bit late.
What could I say,
I wasn't your date.
Came back next day,
And took her away.
The next time I saw her,
Was in four long, long days.
When I asked her "What happened?",
She said: "Go away!".
I asked where she'd gone,
And she just said: "Obey!".
So, I went...
Because I couldn't stay.
She started to change,
Before my very eyes.
She wouldn't tell us secrets,
As if we were foreign spies.
Her skirt was getting shorter,
Every day of every week.
She wore loads of make-up,
And even started to reek.
We didn't see much of HER anymore,
And she always seemed to have her eye on the floor.
But who cares?
It's not like she's here anymore.
But one day I saw her mum,
And she was crying.
When I asked her "why?",
She said: "I'm dying!".
Once again, I just had to inquire,
And she told me my BFF had left...
But why her?
Well, it's not like I had done,
Anything wrong.
Just for her,
I'd stayed terribly strong.
I allowed her to talk,
But she just refused.
So, her leaving,
To me,
Isn't really new news.
Well, I'm off,
With my boyfriend.
Because I have a date,
In the forest,
The far side,
By that old lake.
Which dress should I wear?
Red, black or green?
He said he chose our spot,
Because we'd be all alone.
No one to bother us,
Until we got home.
...Well... he texted me.
But I'm off to meet my boyfriend,
The one I've never met...
...But he sounds REALLY nice,
And on Facebook we're Friends.
But you're just judgemental,
You don't understand.
He's the man of my dreams,
And we're REALLY good friends.
But I'm not like HER!
I wouldn't run and leave.
Even the thought makes me want to heave...
So...I'm off...
Again.
YOU ARE READING
My Words
PoetryA lot of my poems will probably be triggering...but I guess that is kind of the point. What's the point of a poem if it doesn't trigger you. If I do, then I guess it has done its job to reach whoever needs to reach it. Everything here is completely...
