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Bright and early that Sunday morning,

She walked to the road wearing little to nothing,



Flagged down a taxi,

Hoping she had a little money.

He stopped so she bent and told him

"I have little money so will you take me? "

He replied "It's Sunday might as well do a good deed."

She got in and told him "Home."

Please take, me home.

He drove off, saying not a word

Because, at seven o clock, in the morning he knew only one home

The church he had grown up in,

They'd take her in.

She shed silent tears and felt a cold her tiny clothes couldn't shield,

She missed mummy and daddy.

Only if they were still here, she wouldn't have been sold to the brothel,

She wouldn't have met many a men,

And she wouldn't have killed just to go home.

Now they reached the church,

She came down and so did he,

She muttered a thank you, and he smiled.

She went into the church and immediately all eyes were on her,

Words came flying in her direction.

She wasn't welcome even though the hymn was "Jesus saves"

She turned away and tears stung her eye,

But he didnt let her leave he took her back in the cab and drove her to his house.

He saved her and years later, as she grew old, she realized that he was home.

"The eyes of others our prisons, their thoughts our cages"
-Virginia Woolfe 💖💖

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