Prostitute
My eyes shoot
Like my brother owl hoot
Far across the street
Where the barb wire meet
A young woman hovers
Like the leprechaun and clovers
In the darkest part of the night
Where she would have to fight
For she is self employed
Who poverty had deceived and lured
To the dangerous part of life
Like the poison goat who dead
Just like the bird in waiting
Patiently hoping there won't be any fainting
And her enterprise is to sell
Or her pocket will be dry as the Nile
Her own flesh and soul
Or she is bound to fail
But then again the society steps in
Hiding behind their metallic inn
She has principle and moral
But they are nether written or in oral
Who will save her from this crazy world?