The Wayward Call

Deep down she feels like a dirty trampled piece of paper Tossed from one merciless dervil to the hand of another Parading herself scantily clad the cold numbing reality Sometimes she begs to be bought a drink from her clients Inebriated she is able to overlook her soul which accuses Sometimes she does pray – Lord do have mercy her ways The city authorities regard her as a vermin of the society Constant harassment is her way of life for they are sworn Never to legalize her trade never accept hew way of life Sweetheart darling dear and all terms of love and endearment Are hers to use to lure the willing and partly willing to her bed The price negotiated and payment upfront lest she is fleeced