Sunday, January 29, 2012

a woman sells herself on bargain...on the Karl Marx lane!

Saw reflection of urban lore
On the dark glasses your eyes wore...
Saw how you hide the puff
Under your eyes, as forcefully you laugh...
Saw the mark of an old blemish
Slightly visible, though with so many brush stokes furnished...
You tried your best to turn it pale
Who wants marks telling the tale?
But still the marks come open
Living with wolves in a bitter Heaven-
Has its own pretense and foil...

But tell me dear, why do you toil?
So hard really, for a city?
Which throws only disdain and pity-
To you or your sisters-all painted
Your body so much injury tainted?

Perhaps you got someone attached
With you by love, hardly matched...
So you stand under the dark
A few paces only away from that park...
Where children come to play-
With their moms and dads every single day...

What a sweet contrast I find
In my city so culturally defined
A woman sells her body on bargain
Right on the Karl Marx lane!







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