PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Remember the days that we used to make love

instead of just having sex?

Now it seems whenever youre satisfied

you toss me aside and yell “next”

Cyprian, cocotte, harlot, whatever you choose to be

You lady of the night no longer has a soul to see

I guess you say, “Well, it pays the bills”,

Yea will so did I

Except I still kept my dignity

And I never swallowed my pride

What disgusting slum have spread your legs for

Since I have had you last?

What new disease would I fetch

If the walls of your corrupted cave I surpass?

So tell me who was this flavor of the week?

Did you feign your joy well for his pay?

I no longer have a need to speak

For you've said all that I could never say

Remember the days that we sat by the sea

And looked out towards the sun?

Now it seems whenever the sun goes down

You put on that lipstick and run

Cyprian, cocotte, harlot, whatever you choose to be

You lady of the street no longer has blood to bleed

I guess when you saw those red lights in Amsterdam

You thought it meant go instead of stop

Well you've left me to stare at the bottle's bottom

While you're riding high on top

What despicable bum have you given the pleasure

Of exploring your once beautiful body?

What new disease would I catch

If for you I got down on my knees?

Was he black, was he tan, was he yellow, was he red, was he white?

Was he bigger and better than me?

You've blocked your sunshine to forever welcome in the night

Just remember my dear, that between the sheets, no one can ever hear you scream