In a Hotel Room

She lay with gloom upon the bed as outside blinked a garish red which found its way into her room. Upon the bed she lay with gloom. She lay with grief; she lay with rue, with shabby walls a gray milieu and circumstance the unmoved thief. She lay with rue; she lay with grief. As neon flashed, she lay and thought of coming west, how hard she'd fought, and how her dreams had all been dashed. She lay and thought as neon flashed. She lay with shame; a thrust of fate had left her with a wretched weight and stole her hungering for fame. A thrust of fate. . . she lay with shame. Behind closed doors she'll take each john. She lay with one, and so hereon she's joined the order of the whores. She'll take each john behind closed doors. For the Contest of Black Eyed Susan