a sex trafficking prevention campaign

Clipped Wing Birds Don’t Fly: Poem about the entrapment we place on women through ‘Sexual Objectification’

Clipped-wing birds don’t fly.

They dance to keep from falling;

laugh to
keep from crying;

pray to
keep from calling;

work to
keep from trying.

injure themselves
by not flying.

You were made a spectacle
Look at them:
Wicked Men, without constraint lining
the streets of cities to attend.
Same ones on the fringe of coastal ports,
standing in shadows of the no return
That was then,
when you endured their “manipulative” staccato,
trapped in the plaster of a fleshtone coffin,
fanciful smiles that were forced on impact & abuse.
customized for cattle.
That was then,
When they sold ounces of your womanhood,
leaving you a weightless museum piece,
simply because they could.
That was then,
Look at them.
That was them
Look at them.
That was then, and…

I’m ashamed, only because, if that was then,
– where was I, and the rest of our men?
Must have been wondering when, for how to
treat daughters, scattered in winds of apathy,
We’ve become masters.
Spreading heteropsychotic & lustful-rhythms,
Our base self (our sinful self) has become the norm
to those who were mastered.
And the masses think that the base-glossed vulture,
stalking the beauty of adobe photo shopped images
for sales-jumps on posters, internet sites, & media exploitation
is our culture.
So do we.
The spectacle is not them.
Look at us.

By: Christian St Jacques


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