I was a good girl
or so I thought
but a man I loved brought out the bad
I didn't know he was bad
he was older, I was younger, naturally,
And there was not much sex,
But I adored him and did what he said.


What would turn him on
would be to make others want me
And watch
No matter what I had to do.
He was the first and much older
I do not regret that I did what he said.
He gave me to other men, friends, he said.
Some had a natural sex drive
except that I looked young
Others wanted what I found repulsive,
But he died
When that happened, I found my voice
I use it for the voiceless, those whom through circumstance
Have made it impossible to be heard.
Does anyone care about Hepatitis and Aids?
It doesn't seem like it does.
I hope that my one small voice can make a difference.
This isn't really a poem, but a statement.
Do you see the difference?
If you do not, how can I expect the masses
To know the difference?
I sold my soul to make a difference
What will you do?