On the wild side, she lives,
no love in her heart to give.
She walks the streets of Calgary.
Eyes protrude with deep dark circles,
cheeks red, with the look of fire.
Lips missed with cherry red lipstick.
Vampirelike finger nails, glow.
She walks uncertain, in a daze,
tripping over her feet, and wondering.
Where am I? Where am I?
In paranoid state, she makes a
full turn every now and then. The look
of fear upon her face, she yells,
are you following me?
Are you? are you following me?
Away she goes into the night.
No one to talk to, no one to fight.
Wanting to find a man who will treat
her right, if only for a moment,
or a lustful night.
Her dignity was lost, long, long ago.
A beauty she was, before using the snow.
Ravaged, used and abused.
Now discarded like trash can refuse.
What will it take to turn her around, to bring
her back and show her the good side of town.
It may be too late for this cow town girl.
Remember her story and tell the world.
Written: August 15,2006
Melvina, I most enjoyed the rhythm of your rhyme. Your flow was extraoadnarily perfection. If I may, I would suggest placing this piece in a stanza form withich would give it more structure and allow the reader to see how well written it truly is. Billy
I think it is a good poem but the end verse was rather weak in comparision to the rest. Strong imagery, although, having visited Calgary, I found it quite hard to imagine her drunkenly or drugged up, mincing down the concrete streets myself? I also think, there but for the love of god and good friends go many a deserted woman of wrong and bad nights. For the first read of your poetry, I am impressed, Smiling at you, Tai
A compassionate write. You seem endlessly to strive to contain all human experience within your art - a noble quality that should earn the respect of every reader.
My, my...Trouble on the corners of Calgary? I like this a lot, Melvina...Strong imagework is key in achieving the needed impact capture...And you do this quite well, young lady! ''''''''''''''frank
'Ravaged, used and abused. Now discarded like trash can refuse' - pathetic, but true!
They also work from discreet offices claiming to be 'escorts, for time only'these are what I call the sophisticated pro's, they charge a fortune and live the life of riley, only doing business from the best hotels in town and driving the best cars and eat from the best restaurants. Great truths in this poem Mel. Well done.
Awesome write! I've encountered many prostitutes in my time, and nearly all would tell you that they aren't on the sreet just for the money. I would estimate that 99.9% are hooked on crack, etc. Thanks for writing about this and bringing it to light. Hugs, Dee
A sad story, one which most likey is walking around tonight.Moyax
That was good! ! You write with exquisite imagery and descriptions! Keep writing!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I see the other side of midnight Melvina, she too struggle with this mysterious fragile life; helpless.........one of our sisters......remember the olden days Mary.Magdellene.......did the same? ......this is the oldest profession go beyond the barriers due to poverty or may be pleasure?