Her pictures are in magazines,
Her videos on the net;
But her mind will never matter
To these dirty, filthy men.

To them she is an object,
Their pleasure is her pain.

She wants to leave, to run and hide;
But she's just a debt,
In this cruel machine,
And the payment is her life.

Inside she is so broken,
Her body is just a shell.
Her eyes are blank and hollow,
Her existence is pure Hell.

She's crying out,
But no one hears.
Or do they even care?

The pain gets worse,
The terror grows...

She's only twelve years old.