The Prostitute Poem by ANTHONY ANIGBATA

THE PROSTITUTE (ASHEWO)

From one man to another, what profit you lass?
Dwelling in his house but seeking another
Craving for gold and diamonds, which are nothing
But bunch of vanities
Tell me where thou will go next when
You have dashed your sweetness to migrational
And August birds, who care of nothing but bore
In and leave, when a brighter weather appears

From one house to another you ply, let not
Wandering thine nature be. Discontinue this fatal trade,
Closing
All genuine eyes that behold you
Resist thine prurient mind pledging
To pimps and their kinds thine pudenda
Be not a lascivious lass, lest libido lead
Yer to languish and regret bath thee atlast

Do settle you Sheila, or slow in this heinous habit
And cease charioting his crooked paths
Shamelessly every night
Like shrikes on their station, stop and perch
Nesting on thin own kneated nitch.
Fornication is no job, lady if you think it is
And looseness brings no reward, no reward at all

Beauties are like flowers
They fade like the setting sun
And when they do, thine glinting hue withers
Thine breast will bow, and your freshness shall withdraw
Their sunshine salute, the ogey that makes you wanted

So damsel,
Cease that moonlight games and abode here
Where you shall ever remain and live
To be the mother, of many many generations