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In the quiet corners of the world, in villages where the horizon is often blurred by tradition, the lives of young girls are being stolen, piece by piece. It is not a game, but a tragic and unspoken reality—a reality that traps these girls in the web of child marriage. They are made to trade their innocence for the weight of adult responsibilities, torn from the safety of childhood before their hearts are ready to carry the burdens thrust upon them. Child marriage, a phenomenon that continues to scar millions of girls across the globe, is not a choice—it is an imposition. For many, it is a family’s decision, dictated by poverty, misguided tradition, or the desire to preserve what they believe is their daughter’s honor. But for the girl, it is an abrupt end to her dreams, her laughter, and the simple joys of her youth. It is a shattering of her world. In a child’s life, there are supposed to be years filled with curiosity, wonder, and growth. There is the expectation of learning, exploring, and discovering who she truly is. Yet for the child bride, those years are erased. Marriage takes away her education, her freedom, and the chance to grow into the woman she could have been. Instead, she is thrust into a role that requires maturity beyond her years, a role for which she is not prepared, emotionally or physically. The consequences are harsh and irreversible. The body of a young girl is not ready for the demands of marriage and motherhood. Her health suffers as her body is pushed beyond its limits. Childbirth, in particular, can lead to life-threatening complications—complications that too often take the lives of young brides before they even get a chance to see their own children grow up. Beyond physical harm, the psychological toll is equally devastating. The stolen childhood of a young bride manifests in feelings of isolation, fear, and a deep sense of powerlessness. The dreams she once had are replaced with the grim reality of domestic chores, forced intimacy, and the loss of any agency over her own future. In these quiet moments, when the weight of her reality settles in, she may wonder if the life she dreamed of ever existed at all. But it doesn’t have to be this way. There is power in education, and there is strength in solidarity. When girls are given the opportunity to learn and grow, they are empowered to break free from the cycle of child marriage. The dreams they hold close can be nurtured into reality, but only if we choose to stand beside them in their fight for freedom. The world is beginning to wake up to the staggering cost of child marriage, but it is not enough. The voices of resistance must grow louder. Girls who resist, who refuse to accept a life defined by the constraints of marriage and early motherhood, must be celebrated. Their bravery becomes the beacon for others to follow. We must stand firm in our commitment to protect the childhoods of these girls. It is not a game—this is their life, their future. They deserve the right to be children, to dream, to live without fear or limitation. In the face of tradition and oppression, we must choose hope. We must choose empowerment. And we must choose a future where every girl can grow into the woman she was always meant to be. It’s not too late. The stolen childhoods of young brides can be returned, one voice, one change, and one act of defiance at a time. Taghrid BouMerhi is a renowned Lebanese-Brazilian poet, essayist, translator, and journalist She serves as the President of CIESART Líbano, appointed by the International Chamber of Writers and Artists. An editor for over 10 print and online magazines, Taghrid bridges cultures through her literary and media work. She has authored 23 books and translated 40 books along with hundreds of poems and literary works. Recognized globally, she was named one of the top 20 international journalists by Legacy Crown. Taghrid’s achievements have earned her numerous international awards, highlighting her role in modern literature and cultural exchange.

The leaves of those trees have all been dry, constant fall. The tree is also drying on dry soil. The tree has to be saved as if, New leaves of the dry tree to alive, new leaves, To keep it alive. The stones of the horns will be able to get up on the head of the horns, Many stones of the mountain will be painted in the sweat and blood color of the work. Nevertheless, I will not stop or break, I will not go down to fatigue. I will go to the head of the horns, on the journey, Neb will pick up the experience, keep him in the heart. To survive the goal of throwing thousands of stones, False Bonnam False Spit will come to stop proof of lies, Can't stop on the shores of an evil moment. Eligible answers should be given to the appropriate work. There will be various excuses, various excuses, The excuse has to be dust and walk on your own way. If someone comes to the ghost, Gesture leaves will be driven out. Can't stop in the ice country, The fire burns the snow in the snow, floating in the water, You have to move forward. Flowers blossom in the new hope, it increases more in care. As a result of the flowers and fruits of work in the trees of patience. Prove that the wire can't stop me, Stay in the hungry Ranhunkar one step before. Storms with their own electricity stuck in the rain, Electricity has to be destroyed. To stop to stop, to stop, I will tie the dam to burst. Be stopped with bamboo to stop, Opening one's street moor by not accepting the rate, Get out of the new road. Priyanka Neogi , born on July 2, 1988, in Coochbehar, India, is a librarian, poet, author, journalist, and cultural enthusiast. She has written over a thousand poems published in more than 40 countries and has contributed to numerous newspapers, magazines, and anthologies. A passionate educator and speaker, she has attended international conferences and published books on Library and Information Science. She is also a dancer, performer, and judge in various artistic fields. Priyanka holds leadership roles in literary and sports organizations, including the 50-Cricket Ball Association and the Football 8 Federation of West Bengal. She is an ambassador for global literary platforms and has received multiple international awards for her contributions to literature, education, and the arts.

Do you know when- I want to die? When you imprison me, it is your love When I scream from the cruelty of your authority, And you belittle my scream As if I am something without a will! As if I am a stone statue Or a silent corpse, And my death was killed by silence! I wish to die, And not to be in your hands, A game moved by spider webs! I wish to die, And not for the tear that is Stifled in my eyes to scream- With a thousand voices! I wish to die, And don't sell me in the name of love or marriage I am a child in need of life My cry for salvation I refuse to sell this child in the name of marriage I want to grow up And live the beauty of my world And play with my friends with my doll And I'm not afraid of a day My childhood and smile will be lost I wish to die And never live my life like this I am free, yes, and rebellious And in my refusal I am strict And with my will I bid you farewell Even if we commit suicide or even die And I don't want to be a toy that you break with your hands A child and slaughter her with marriage This is not life This would be death And I know my death will hurt you, And you are the tyrant! I reject the harshness of your authority I and my heart will live In happiness alone, Even if the price is, Your heart dies. Nagla Ali Hassan is an Egyptian-Iraqi visual artist based in the United Arab Emirates, specializing in Japanese Patchwork art—a unique three-dimensional sculpture technique using compressed cardboard covered with fabric. In addition to her expertise in this art form, she is skilled in painting, sculpture, leather engraving, wood burning, and various handcrafts. She is also a fashion designer for traditional and theatrical clothing, a poet, and a journalist for Zohwa magazine. Her artistic journey includes solo exhibitions in the UAE, Egypt, and Tunisia from 2020 to 2025, as well as participation in 320 group exhibitions across Egypt, Iraq, the UAE, Tunisia, Jordan, Serbia, Turkey, Germany, Morocco, and Spain. With a deep commitment to social impact, she strives to spread the culture of beauty in society, empower women who have faced violence by teaching them handicrafts for small business ventures, and integrate people with disabilities into society through art. Beyond her professional work, she enjoys visual arts, music, poetry writing, and travel.

I feel dizzy. Because I saw the dark side of the organism called humans. Because I touched it, albeit only briefly. It was a completely accidental encounter. There are some brazen adults. They wear a mask of merit, a cloak of class, a guise of grace. Yet beneath their polished pride, they are plagued with putrid sins. Criminals once condemned, but never cleansed of shame. They still flaunt their ‘respectable adulthood’ in their sludgy, coal-tar darkness. And they beckon me to bow before them, to run to them with reverence. What a shameful, shivering sight. Draped in the disguise of wisdom, they are shamelessly naked. Still sinking, still soaking in a muddy swamp. Why do they wave their hands at me and urge me to kneel? Is it because I have no money? Is it because I have no power? Is it because I look ignorant? Is it because I look young? Don't do stupid.　 I would never step into that rotten stinking swamp. It is a pool of blood, a mixture of human blood, organs and bones. It is a swamp of floating souls and the smell of the blood of the dead and the souls of those who can't die and leave things this way. I dare not draw near—death lingers there. Now I am in the forest. Here, I breathe the world. I still see that sickening swamp, but I also see the light leaking through the towering treetops. I see the light seeping through. Ah, the light is descending just a few steps ahead of my path. … A glistening crystal glow. ………………………………. On my path an emerald green light rolling Scooping it with both palms I return it to the welkin ……………………………….. I cannot enter the rotten swamp, but I can shine a light into it. So let us cast light upon the darkness of child marriage. Let us expose this evil. Let each of us stand against it. Salvation will come. Raise your voice, let the world hear. The first step begins now. Rika Inami is a Japanese Tanka poet and a member of Nihon Kajin Club, Mirai Tanka Kai, Murō Saisei Gakkai and Akita International Haiku Network. She has been composing Tanka poetry since 2003 and has published several books, including translations of English poems into Japanese. Her awards include Solution Creators Prize and Eban Prize in the EU-Japan New Space2060 International Illustrated Haiku Competition 2019 (both are in Tanka), 2022 International Poet Mid Autumn Festival Award, and Third period Seishin International Poet Award from China.

Ahmed took me to visit his villa in Baghdad The car travels between Euphrates and Tigris Passing through the oasis between the two rivers There are roses on both sides of the path The backyard faces the blue lake The villa in the distance is like Hanging Gardens of Babylon Everything is available in the Hanging Garden After getting drunk, he told me This is the villa left to him by Amira Amira is actually a prostitute She is as pure as a princess in the photo frame Smiling towards this world in the ancient city of Babylon She started the Pleasure Marriage at the age of nine The Arabic name is Nikah mut'ah Only lasts for one day each time She will receive eight hundred dollars She also need to divide the emcee's money by three hundred dollars Has a Pleasure Marriage once a day Two hundred times a year This villa is worth ten million US dollars So she has to have Pleasure Marriage a thousand times in five years Because once it is free A fourteen year old girl is still gorgeous They met at the right time and place Happy and blissful marriage But exposed at the wrong time and place Amira committed suicide Ahmed took me to the top of the villa The villa called one thousand and one nights pleasure marriage Looking at the ancient city of Babylon amidst the sandstorms from afar He said she once dreamed of becoming a designer I walk carefully in this house where one thousand and one Pleasure Marriages have taken place The Sky Garden is very far away May 19, 2020 in Beijing Cao Shui , also Shawn Cao (born in Jun 5, 1982), is a Chinese poet, novelist, screenwriter and translator. He is a representative figure of Chinese Contemporary Literature. He leads the Great Poetry Movement. His most notable works includes Epic of Eurasia, the already mentioned trilogy and King Peacock (TV series). So far fourty books of Cao Shui have been published, including 10 poem collections, 5 essay collections, 10 novels, 4 translations, 18 fairy tales and 100 episodes TV series and films. He has won more than 50 literary awards worldwide. His works have been translated into 24 languages. He is also chief editor of Great Poetry, deputy editor in chief of World Poetry, Asian coordinator of World Poetry Movement, Chinese representative of BRICS Writers Association, executive president of the Silk Road International Poetry Festival, Chairman of Beijing International Poetry Film Festival. Currently he lives in Beijing, and works as a professional writer and screenwriter.

‘Child marriage are not two words that should even be together in the same sentence’   Her pelvic cracks a little (just a little), on the first night he breaks into her body She looks up wide eyed, confused into his stained teeth which passed into adulthood Even before she was conceived in her mother’s womb He sucks on her meat, his teeth in her ribs, crushing a temple that would Have stood where his hands now smother what looks like an areola ready To bloom when spring arrives, the bride now walks in a plantation dreaming Of school, friends, a library of unread books, lunch boxes to be shared Fights with her brothers and her mother’s helpless gaze from the kitchen Her small back broken now, her willowing arms trying to become oars Rapidly splashing in the sea on a stormy night, tired, they give up by dusk And wake up to a sticky field full of mines with a cane in the throat She is a woman now, while the men wait for harvest from her Ephemeral womb that is yet to stitch its layers into one piece of human tissue She is a bride, with purple flower, a peeking face behind a veil, a statistic in a paper about illiteracy, A missing daughter, a piece of news that may turn into a documentary, A story in the news that the west will read if they open the right page, an unidentified cold body in the sugarcane field, a missing number in the school register, she is a note in the book of opposing parliamentarians, an illiterate teenage mother, A little girl just like my niece who lies silent in a hospital bed bleeding, a pupil missing from a classroom full of boys flying paper planes, a slave, an economic burden, an epitome of poverty, a dowry that was passed from one hand to another between two adult men, she is a family’s honor being protected, a prisoner of war, she is this and that, everything men can think of but a little child that she truly is who dreams one day of becoming a doctor, a pilot, a scientist or a teacher, anything but a wife

Tomorrow It is easy to be a woman So i become a kid Today Translated into English by Sevda Akyüz Şükran Aydın is a Turkish poet whose work has been widely recognized and published internationally. She debuted with Mürekkep Acısı (Pain in Ink) in 2006, followed by Anlamın Yaşı Küçük (Young is The Meaning) in 2021, which was later translated into English by Sevda Akyüz and published on Amazon in 2022. Her poetry has been featured in various anthologies, including the Litterateurs and Cultural Figures of Turkey Encyclopaedia, Poetry Gathering 2007, the 2021 UNESCO World Poetry Day Anthology, and the 21st Century Turkish Poetry Anthology (2023). She became a member of the Writers' Union of Turkey in September 2023. Her work has been published in esteemed literary platforms such as Turkish Female Poets of Honar and Eghtesad, International Writers Journal, Farah Poesia, Poetry Galaxy Atunis, World Poetry Yearbook 2024, and more. Her poems have been translated into multiple languages, including Greek, English, Persian, Arabic, Italian, Hebrew, Albanian, Serbian, and French.

Illustration: AI Masticated By The Distance Winter is a beautiful icon Carries on its own smile in the rain and in the green earth When it gets mad it darkens and bursts severely His body is trembling from the cold Like the last leaf on a dying tree Plantar dew is a dripping of pain and his eyes stands against the last extent It was like his heart confused linearity ain't nothing beats apprehension his short nap was not a coincidence of drowsiness Tightened the control over his eyelids Where grief was roaming around his heart and he was too roaming around the grief He went on looking at the clock with some worries suddenly he pointed his looks on her image that dominates the space He was attracted by the sparkles in her eyes Sounds like if he sees it for the first time the whiteness of her ivory nick was his only lantern Her spectrum awakens the embers speech and reignites a fire on his lips Night and nostalgic are harbor Which the ship of longing docks onto and the sails of absence roisters on its pier to test the cranky patience He was talking himself to sleep the sleep that was his only salvation in a shadow of memory's being masticated by the distance and a dream he knows will not come soon In The Vanishing Wind My desires are wakening up And alone, the shiver extends into the desert dunes It runs on the body of sand Whenever my fingers acquired a sin of love It passes with the lightness of fragrance And guides flocks of birds to my agonies As rivers of suns Or suns rising up in my hand I point to some remnants and speak silently When a kiss is born on my lips And wine gets drunk when captivated by the face of mirrors The ground flows with dew Hair haul down its tufts on the shoulder of a star traveling like a cloud And I run after a doe in the lust of vanishing wind GOD, The Generous, The Wise Praise be to Allah , the Frist before creation and revival, and the Last after the annihilation of things, the Knowledgeable. Oh, You’re the Light whose features show eternal light ‏O Smile that overlooks the world ‏O Mercy that has set for man the signs of the path of guidance ‏Oh, the Voice emanating from the unseen behind and withholding holiness ‏O Adored in the hearts of purity and truth and goodness ‏What the heart may reveal, and what medicine for the soul when your love overwhelms it How do You drive me away and I the weak who seek refuge from sins on the run, or disappoint my guide who intended to go to You, seeking Or how do You respond injustice and return me to streams of pain and misery, when Your streams of bounties and benevolence is rooted in the dwelling of Your kindness , and Your door is open to the requesters. ‏Our hearts and souls travel to You in every dwelling and gesture. Guide me to the straight path And awaken me from inattention Oh, Allah do not forsake me Accept me among thy faithful. Nasser Alshaikhahmed is a Saudi Arabian bilingual poet and writer who composes poetry and short stories in both Arabic and English. He studied at Sonoma State University in California, USA, and although his academic background is unrelated to literature, his passion lies deeply in poetry and writing. He is a member of AllPoetry.com and Soul Asylum Poetry Radio (New York, USA). His work has been featured in poetry anthologies such as Voracious Polyglots (USA), The Quilled Ink (South Africa), and Wheel Song Poetry (UK), as well as in online magazines like Polis Magazino (Greece), ILA Magazine (USA), and Grupo de Trabajo de Escritores "Juntos por las Letras" (Argentina). He has also translated several works from English to Arabic for poets from the USA, Japan, and Australia, with his translations published in local journals. Nasser has published one poetry book in Arabic, العرافة (Ara’fa), in 2013 through Arabian House for Science and Publishing, and another in English. He won the second prize of the "Zheng Nian Cup" China Literary Award in 2023 and received the L.A. Seneca International Academic Literary Award from the Italian Academy of Philosophical Arts and Sciences (Bari, Italy) in October 2023. He has participated in the International Children’s Literature Forum in Bangladesh (December 2023), the Oman International Poetry and Cultural Festival (April 2024), and the Indian International Literary Meet Forum (November 2024).

She stood apart protecting her heart from the multitude thronging free food Alone she was Free from the pain of mothers suckling hungry babies to dry nipples Free from the grief of fathers carrying dying children on blistered, cracked soles Free of the confusion in armies of frightened eyes fleeing starvation, this side and that Erect shoulders breasts covered by tattered dress legs defiantly astride saucer eyes staring haughtily at the unending line Hungry she was too but she was used to it unlike those whose work was snatched away at the midnight hour Her hunger coalesced into anger Anger had kept her afloat against goondas, rapists, corrupt cops scared off with her acid tongue spouting bone-rattling curses from terrifying gods Her mission - to inject her voice into kids with sun bleached hair matching her own fill them with the anger she has known which alone can be their weapon to survive.

So many marriages against their will Because that's tradition, they say. What about the fact that their traditions Disobey children's rights ? The young girls are sold to some strangers They barely know and meet In order to get married. All their parents care is fortune and status Not about their happiness . Their relatives are behaving like merchants That exchange objects at different prices. The lack of humanity is taken too far away Treating children as slaves and not as fruits of love. Don't you hear the scream of innocence In this cage of aggresive tradition? Bogdana Găgeanu is a Romanian poetess and playwright.She published three books of poetry and she wrote a script for a short Romanian movie that participated at a film festival in France.

It feels like waking up next to a ghost and craving for life and getting lost, and I want to hold the girl that I used to be, tell her that ancient secret for me doesn’t mean more than a sweet lie - come on little girl, be brave, don’t cry.   Broken, like a glass of wine after a fight, broken with all that was mine, without no light, broken like a preacher of forgotten prayers, like a painting with no colors and layers, and never asking the reason why - come on little girl, be brave, don’t cry.   You have left me so many times before but I always tend to ask for more, I never stop and never believe - come on little girl, be brave, just leave. Aleksandra Lekić Vujisić (Podgorica, Montenegro) is an English language professor and an award-winning writer and poet. She writes in her native language and English, and her work has been translated into Italian, Spanish, Polish, Albanian, Corean and Chinese language. She is an author of four books.

It's not that she didn't want to get married at nine. Or have a baby at ten. She didn't understand what a marriage was. Or having a baby. She dressed her baby up like a doll, and sang her little songs. And carefully hid her daughter's tiny, budding wings. And waited. Ivana Milaković is a speculative fiction writer and the author of three short story collections. Writes in Serbian and English. Translated into Romanian.