Red Frozen Flower
This Poem about an instance of pain and plight of Sex workers.
Red Frozen Flower:
Multiple cars flashing the red lights,
Coating red lipsticks on street.
Decorated like a model,
Hair perfect as a wig,
Eyelids having shine of summer sand,
Eyelashes curled like a wave,
with a red rose smile.
While neck loaded in golden figures,
she was garbed in red glittered dress,
in heels giving her ache of a ninety year old.
Several cars slow down,
Pricing her worth,
Touching their crouch,
Ogling with dripping saliva,
Having thought of,
mounting her like,
A lion on it’s prey,
tearing her spirit bit by bit.
Every time a car stopped,
Her heart’s beat hopped,
As the ordeal of,
prior days still haunted,
Gathering her scattered guts,
She hopped on in a red Skoda,
Naive to her future.
When arrived at crematory,
The human mask melted and sinisters appeared,
Advancing to rip her clothes like a bandage,
while they took turn like on a fiery.
She felt the pain of frying in hell,
stabbing of multiple knives,
the crush of several mountains,
and slipping into coma.
The terror went on,
filling the night's silence,
with the ring of her,
pig’s alike squeal.
As she bled lying on crematory,
In the shivers of the naked night,
Like a Red Frozen Flower.
Copyright © Omika Mishra | Year Posted 2020
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