The Lament of a Whore

Atleast ten men to bid for her Fight for her to possess her But none does she later....never ever Nor does she possess any men of her own Her dreams never seeing the daylight She lying in unknown arms bathing in false ectasy venting her deep sorrow Only the dark ceiling a witness to her lament No one else giving a d*mn Her body is her bread No other trade does she know But entwined in different arms she does dream of caring arms that soothe a shoulder to lay her burden whose children she will happily bear..... But the door knocks and her next customer barges in wasting no time And a curtain falls on her dreams..... As she reluctantly yields......