Story of a Prositute

Spinning, pushing, and laying down,

Another day gone, lost into the night,

Once pure, now no more,

Stuck in the endless cycle,

The visious cycle.

Fights, abuse, and running,

Always running,

From who?

The police.

Drugs will keep the shame away,

Sorry world I may not be here to stay.

Needles, fire, and condom,s

What does that matter anyway, not like I need them.

Doctor visits will be never,

No money, yet paid every night.

The pain, the pleasure, and the shame,

One and done, ever heard of me?

I'm the one your man runs to every night when he can't get any from you.

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