Love For Sale Poem by Paula Glynn

She applies her red lipstick and black eyeliner,
The evening not quite yet begun,
For this is her job, her career,
And in her life she must alone steer,
But she is not lonely, she just accepts her life,
For it is as it is, yet she sometimes wonders,
How it'd feel to be someone else,
With no love to sell, but she is not that person,
And she never went to university,
She barely finished school,
But she is still fairly young and no one's fool,
For she is body beautiful, although no model,
And she dresses up in skirts and heels,
Men in cars copping a feel,
But she does not mind: it is as it is,
And she is an expert at walking in heels.

She leans in the car, offering her services,
And the man accepts,
For she is beautiful and young,
She seems to have no regrets,
For the man is in his early 30's,
His wife off sex, so it's love for sale,
His sexuality completely male.

Later that night, she enters her flat,
Putting her earnings in the caddy,
Knowing she has pleased someone,
But this does not make her feel good,
For sometimes she feels used and very confused,
But she has rent to pay, she needs her home,
And if selling her body for love means this,
Then that is the way it must be,
But, still, it is not easy, the men wanting more,
Sometimes more than she can give,
But she lives on her won, with no violent husband,
And if that freedom means selling her body,
She will do it, this her life: her reality.