Trapped amidst those famous red light streets, Cigarettes and cocaine became her only sweets.
Dirty looks ,dirty talks, a daily affair. Different sizes, part of her business not so rare.
She satisfies each one of them,
adorning a body bargained since eighteen.
Goes down on her knees now and then,
a part of her high paid routine.
Humanity resents her- a dirty whore.
Only money, she expects nothing more.
Between the self-inflicted wounds her days pass.
Fifty and still a woman without class.
Aged and now grown weak,
They say she is no more a tight grip.
Still some thrust her hard and deep,
Free condoms her only tip.
Many loathe her,even her name,
For she is not a part of their fame..
Happy she is, in her solitude,
Yes, she is the prostitute.