The Poetry Prostitute

I first plied my wares
When i was young
But so young
I have no, or little memory of it
And in time
Forgotten
I began again
Like a street urchin
Homeless, and destitute
Other than a few kind words
I gained no recompense
Undaunted
I persevered
Offering my wares
To all, and sundry
From each far flung town
Or village, or city
I happened to pass through
I wondered
If all the women i slept with
Were somehow rewarding me
For my sensitivities
And the few men
When i was drunk
And lonely
Forever destined
To be a cliched
Pauper poet
Then technology arrived
So now i no longer
Have to humiliate myself
Should i encounter
An unappreciative audience
Or the 'wrong' audience
But this has played havoc
With any intimate encounters
That i may of had
And love, lost
And although my poetry
Has been widely read
One site i'm fast approaching 90k
Would of been very tiring
Sleeping with so many
Of my poetic voyeurs
But could of been fun
Unless romance
Had intervened
And rescued me
Dragging me away
From my pit of despair
Unable to share
My broken dreams
As i lie
Naked
And exposed
And unpaid
Any offers?
Anyone?
I'm cheap!
Payment by paypal, or visa
Or a quick roll in the hay?

by Jemia