Poem Whores
Love me,
want me,
read my songs,
if not for words I don't belong.
I've opened up stretched my soul flat,
poem whores are sure of that.
Give me,
feed me,
wanting more,
searching out for whats in store.
Innocent with guilt for lore,
judgement on the poem whores.
Copyright © Ken Bennight | Year Posted 2016
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