Streetwalker

 She struts on the street with her half full clothes
With no care in the world, she suppresses the foes
The only thing in her mind is getting the doe
Which is what keeps her going when the times are low

Her temple exposed to the world of sin
They come and go leaving nothing but scars on her skin
The wolves brag about having been
To the sacred kingdom of the "queen"
Anyone with ears hears her praises and gets others keen

Her mind is numb to the voice in her head
While her pores ooze out red
She's learnt to take the good along with the bad
Which explains why she hasn't gone mad

An antique she is, it's written all over her face
But she moves on the fast lane, with that pace
And only against time is her race
With all that's said, i rest my case