deepundergroundpoetry.com
Woman of the night
I have become a woman of the night.
The things I do aren’t right.
I wear my dresses a bit too tight;
Short skirts and tops that are too light.
I walk down the down, strutting, showing my stuff.
Painting the town red, with my breasts all puffed.
Stunting, trying to get attention from the men that are a bit buff.
I don’t even get tired; I just huff and chuff.
The things I do aren’t right.
I wear my dresses a bit too tight;
Short skirts and tops that are too light.
I walk down the down, strutting, showing my stuff.
Painting the town red, with my breasts all puffed.
Stunting, trying to get attention from the men that are a bit buff.
I don’t even get tired; I just huff and chuff.
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