Outpourings For A Call-Woman Poem by Rajendran Muthiah

Your smiles aren't crafty but captive
of hearts temptable and lecherous.
When you offer smiles in plenty
from low to high, the bard to lord,
my heart buries in sorrow's grave
and stored anger erupts to rave.
If goons gossip about your life
I don't mind, even if they put
the stamp of call-woman on you.
When gentler souls steep in silence
on hearing such bad, lewd comments,
my Muse sheds unceasing tears
for the massive number of poems
wrote on you pouring out my heart!