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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required there is a brothel there down the street, built like a palace three stories high, hear anklets jingle on dancing feet, with singing and drums as you pass by. I have chanced within once as a youth, to savour pleasures of sinful flesh, in wine and smoke did not see the truth, the tormented souls trapped in evil mesh. pretty they who were plying their trade, vibrant bodies in their early teens, stained glass windows, moroccan lamp shades a sale of bodies for living means! men of wealth leaning on cushioned seats, aged lustful men aim for a score, clapping and rejoicing with the beats, toss money up asking for encore! men of high repute frequented the halls, those who spoke morals and values too, even priests, scholars bought at these stalls, of suffering they caused, had no clue! girls were from different parts of state, some sold through poverty by their own, some stolen from home or lost to fate, some orphaned young, some reasons unknown! here was a trade all chose to ignore, law makers, elite just let it go, each year the numbers grew even more, bodies sold, though their young hearts cried ‘No’! religion morals preached everywhere, man’s hypocrisy in full display, parents showed their own children love, care, suffering of these girls none would say! late one autumn I stopped to enquire, found doors locked, no lights, no sound, no sway, said one “come morrow, if you desire, Brothel is closed for Gandhi’s birthday! 4th placement in Premium contest written 13/02/2021 They closed the brothel contest Kai Michael Neumann Sponsored 9 syllables each line 7 stanzas! abab.... rhyme
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