it’s simple

I came with ignorance. A window cleaner walking the traffic line is simply working for his pay. A boy juggling between the traffic is clearly working for his family. But here in this concrete city, it is the gateway to Europe for the business of trafficking people. Nothing is clear, and simple is complicated.
This man with sagging flesh that hangs onto bones just waits in the beating sun all day, everyday. He’s not doing it because he wants to or needs to. His meager wage that drivers throw into his outstretched hands after he wipes their window simply falls straight into the trafficker’s sticky fingers. So simple is complicated. He is controlled by a debt bondage that never even existed but exists to bind him. So this is his life for now while he waits in line for his turn for freedom.
And here is this boy with shallow cheeks and a dirt smudged body. He is hungry for sure. He is hungry all over. He taps on my window and pleads with his eyes. He just juggled three tennis balls in front of my car while I waited for the red to change in line. His trafficker is not too far, you always know this simple fact. Simple is complicated. 
But simple can be simple because justice is justice. Nothing less. 

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