Driven
The street her catwalk
The clothes her haute couture
Head held high
She strutted her stuff
At sixteen she was quite mature
Wrong side of the tracks
Not a good start to life
Being posh elevated her
confidence
Avoiding the strife
Able to work this
To get what she needed
Knowing herself
Trusting herself
A few years conceded
Love on the streets tonight
For sale at a price
Your place or mine
The front seat of your car
She could add a little spice
She had their number
Her expertise fortuitous
A carnival of sexual needs
She had seen it all
Separating herself from anxious
Sometimes there was violence
The Johns were abominating
The older girls looked out
not always able to protect her
She rarely saw it coming
She didn’t remember
How many there had been
Mostly it was a blur
Soon she would have enough
To say goodbye to the obscene
The end justified the means
She was almost there
Suck it up for a little longer
A few more tricks
Then nothing left to share
Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
Anmol is hosting at D’Verse Poets tonight and has prompted
us with Profiles and Portraits. This is a poem I wrote
some time ago and I thought I would share it tonight
Word Prompts:
Anxious
Carnival
Posh
Number
Fortuitous
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