Prostitute/Mother
In the freezing rain she walks about
With makeup streaked and hair soaked.
A tiny sweater and mini skirt display her charms
But know nothing of warmth.
Stiletto heels shape the legs, but hurt the feet.
Another day at the office in her frightening world,
But work she must, for she feeds two.
A little boy waits at home
For the meal this night must buy.
And her arm awaits the fix that dulls the pain
Enough to face the next night here.
This isn't how it was supposed to be.
Dreams of fame were once so clean.
Family and friends praised her voice.
The world stopped as she sang.
Fourteen hundred miles she moved
To seek an occupation that rejected her
And the love that abandoned her.
But she works this night
For the only warm glow in her life.
A little boy waits at home.