Is It Poetry
Swallows His Pride - Poem by Is It Poetry
She wears what she wears each night.
She's keeps hidden underneath what all want.
Against common since, the girls mother is.
And she swallows his pride, for a price.
Efficiently is traded, English it marks,
and marked by it all,
she can not speak and it is.
She wastes little time, each second she counts.
Shortly thereafter for her, comes the next.
Her bodies cut and weeping it hurts now,
All of their cravings going and coming no names
The moon up above, as it smiles down below.
The men pull out the spoon and it fits.
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