The winners claim your nights,
Plunder you, relish you, and you scream in delight.
At just about 11 AM the punters put you to bet,
They play you to bed, they want you on bed, you bite them off
With the teeth of your glamorous hot jewels.
24*7 the labor of love treads,
With your curves in mind,
With your jives divine,
To earn a honest days bread.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem about a great city. I lke it, keep writing