A hundred bucks I gave her
She was not selling herself
She asked it for help
His man drunk too much
With life he paid
He has left me a beggar
She lamented
Starting with the cost of his last rites
My days will now be an endless fight
A hundred bucks I gave her
And closed the door
She wasn’t in my thought anymore
Till last night in the dim moon’s glow
I caught two moving shadows
Of her with another man, a stranger.
As her laughter rippled the night
I nodded.
She wouldn’t give up without a fight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem