A WHORE’S DREAM
It is a whore’s dream
That an angel of light
May some day smile and free
Feet bound by tedious miles
Of drudgery and discontent.
It is a whore’s dream
To push aside the foot
That is firmly upon your throat,
And stand reborn to confront your oppressor.
It is a whore’s dream
That beauty may one day choose you
Instead of always the other
And that the rain of joy might come
To wash away the mountain of dirt
Under which you slowly smother.
It is a whore’s dream to be hailed a winner
Rather than one born to lose.
A sainted hero rather than a shunned sinner,
If only a whore could truly choose.