Hostage

I saw her step onto the bus

A 16 year old girl trapped in a woman's body

Those legs, those cheeks

That hair and those breasts

Such a glamour and underage

But boys don't see it that way 

Playing the part by sexing up 

The nails, the make-up

Sexed-up to be sexed by sexts 

Creeps who have her number 

Her eyes speak of a desperate longing 

Wanting to return to innocence 

But she is hostage 

Held in a grip of silence 

By affairs that have too much to lose

The threat of guilt too much to bear

And so she remains surrendered 

Enslaved to the ill-fated curse of beauty 

In a world that no longer regards the heart

Or the law