PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Look at her up there,

Shaking her assets for the men to stare,

Their mouths open,

Just hoping,

To touch

feel

caress

She's nothing but an object to them,

A symbol of their lust,

But I see through it,

I see through the glitter,

and the title 'slut'

I see her as a little girl,

Waiting for her daddy,

Broken hearted, 

A damaged pearl.

But she'll call to me one day,

I've seen her life, 

Before the decay,

Before the heart break,

and the dismay.

I'll call her daughter,

Because I'm her father,

I sent my son for her,

To wash her clean

In the river's water.

Redeemed,

The best love she has ever known,

Completely selfless,

Redressed in her white gown.