PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I lay in this hotel bed,

with its white on white sheets.

I'd never take a client to my home.

which, to us, is an astounding feet.

I do this because I need the money

though it isn't something I enjoy

I can't keep living like a peasant

and must give in to be these men's toy.

I'm not one of those meager street walker's

I am a high class callgirl.

If any man decided to take the chance,

I can promise to rock his world.

Right now I'm in the bathroom

cleaning my body within the shower.

But though I'm thorough I must be quick

my next client is in an hour.

So I scrub the last's essence of my skin,

he smelled like booze and death.

But I could barely cringe away from a customer

despite his burning hot breath.

I shake away my revulsion

and change into something sexy

Ready for some new pervert to knock

eager to lay down on top of me.

I pick up my perfume and spray

and rub red lipstick on my lips.
When suddenly there is a knock on my door

I walk over while swaying my suple hips.

I take a moment to calm my nerves

and to tap down the surging panic

Feeling breath flood into my lungs

and my heart beats seem gigantic.

I flash back to old memories

a strong and giant man holding me down.

A small girl screaming "Step-daddy don't hurt me."

But he continues as if she hasn't made a sound.

She brings herself back to now

with a hard and violent shake.

To flash back to days of old now

would be a horrible and dire mistake.

So she thinks back to happier thoughts

returning to her second life and friends.

And opens the door to her next client,

surprised to see a familiar face------ Her Husband.