Teenage Courtesan Poem by Dolan Doran

Needing a smoke,
So I walk with a friend.
Walk into the 'Smoke Room',
and close the door.
He sits on the bed,
with me on the chair.

Light up,
with casual talk.
He makes a remark,
with one glance
I think 'what the hell, why not? '

We flirt, what I do best
with him enjoying the lushness
of my curves, my body.
He stops and leaves,
feeling guilty for me
'you're too young Tam' he says.

Next up Bayne,
He too thinks i'm hot.
But once again, I'm too young.
So he leaves, and wispers
'I'll be right back'
Not wanting the guys to hear.

Alone in the room,
T.V off, wanting, but too young.
Still Alone.
Can't do this,
Shouldn't have to.

Now all I can think,
to my sorry dismay,
and despite my best efforts
at keeping postive about
this whole thing, is only this...

'so whose next? '