PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Soft footsteps echo through the darkest hour

as she walks the concrete street

with painted lips of cherry red

she smiles at the men she meets

The collar of her coat turned high

her hair blowing in the wind

the day is gone and night's alive

and she needs to find a friend

She stops beneath a lone street light

to count dollars that are too few

and she needs to turn a trick tonight

for tomorrow the rent is due

And around the corner in a tenament house

where the vermin crawl and creep

is her little boy of almost four

who tosses in restless sleep

Now she see's him watching, from the next street down

a hat pulled low o'er his head

and she smiles as she thinks of the money he'll pay

for soon he'll be in her bed

A shared sandwich as they climb the stairs

two glasses and a bottle of cheap wine

then on to the business of the midnight hour

and she hopes he'll be gentle and kind

In the early morning she finds him gone

on the stand, fifty bucks that he had paid

and on the mirror in the bath room, a message to her

so long girl, I just gave you aides----