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From The Tacoma Times, July 10, 1913. By Berton Braley.

(Several hundred girls disappear every year in the big cities.)

Rosa’s gone—and who will ever find her?
     Rosa’s gone—the way so many go;
 Not a trace did Rosa leave behind her.
     That’s the way—THEY always fix it so.
 Rosa—she was young and very pretty
     (That’s the kind of girl THEY like to snare);
 So she’s posted “missing” in the city,
     God knows where!
 Rosa, being young, was fond of pleasure,
     Life to her was something blithe and sweet,
 So THEY planned and plotted at their leisure,
     So THEY set the trap beneath her feet;
 Innocent and gay and all unknowing,
     Trusting to the friends that led her on,
 Unaware the road that she was going.
     Rosa’s gone!
 Rosa’s gone—and patiently we’ve sought her,
     Vainly followed every trail or clue—
 Mothers, think of Rosa as YOUR daughter,
     Think of this as happening to YOU!
 Rosa’s gone—like other girls before her,
     Knowing not the net till it was drawn.
 How shall all our mourning now restore her?
     Rosa’s gone!

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