'All-Night' Allison Poem by Rex Lemon

Born and raised on 4th street,
I had no shoes to cover my feet
With corn flakes for dinner,
and not enough for lunch,
my mother would sit and cry,
while my hair would crunch...

Happiness was rare,
for all the kids at school would stare,
if it weren't for old Allison,
with her long fingernails,
and, willing to cure,
who would have known,
How long I would have stayed 'pure'

On a cold night in December,
I wondered over to her place,
which was a night to remember,
'Five dollars, you say? '
'If you can pay! '