Subrata Ray

Rookie (27.01.1959 / Nator, Rajsahi, Bengladesh)

Oh! How I Salute, You The Noblest Prostitute. By Ray Subrata - Poem by Subrata Ray

She is my bliss,
You sir, would never her miss,
Yes, yes, I promise.

Vitality, -you question?
Tease and taste,
Sweat and rest,
She would give you the best.

Since my paralytic-bed,
With two children over my head,
She, a house wife turned to the ground,
Where so many like you, she has found.

The clients feel secured here,
I a friend, her husband, am always there.

In the back-door screen,
Happens the secret scenes,
As per you purchase the hour,
She unlocks her art,
In her every part
And functions her bower.

No effort did she leave,
To give the family a civic relief,
Door to door knocked for a job,
Hopes were given,
She was driven,
But was halted, harassed, and robbed.

I planned to put an end,
But she did never bend,
With whisper in my ear said she,
Nay! , I love my children, and love thee.


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Poem Submitted: Sunday, August 22, 2010



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