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deepundergroundpoetry.com

Whores.

She was a whore
Just like her mother
Dead years ago
From an overdose.
She was a whore
Living in this tiny and bare
Little apartment.
A table, two chairs
A bed.
She was a whore who accepted
The odd gift, a pack of cigarettes
A joint now and then from
A generous John.
She was a whore who listened
To the nonsense of men spilling
Their heart out.
Their mother was a whore
Their wife was a bitch a cunt and a whore.
They banged the shit out of her
Spilling their anger in her
Calling her also a bitch a cunt and a whore
Then all limp they left her her reward
Sorry little boys acting like big men
But left  with tears in the heart
Hiding their failures, their life a lie
In order to get back
To a world of Cinderrellas
So lovely, so cute, so pure
And full of joy.
Written by robert43041 (Viking)
Published
Author's Note
I wanted to put this poem in the section having to do with Comment on Society but  naturally, because of the words and the sex stuff...it belongs here
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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