The Title Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

The title

Was afraid, self-censored,
Forcibly changed a name,
Chose "Title" for title…

My thought was different:
"Prostitute, Whore, Hooker."

Have crushed my pride,
Read the ads to find job!

Put myself forward but
"No, Sorry! " are replies!

Feel hooker on the road,
And sense the old escort.

Hungry, needing food,
Sell myself, prostitute!

Feel monkey, play game,
Dress well to fool them,
Lie, copy the shameless!

Think of books that I read,
Some of them are correct:
"The women, brothels',
Turn to pimps, in old age! "

Am I not one of them?

I think of the careless,
Beggars, panhandlers!

I think of criminals,
Murder and suicide!

I think of rotten husk,
Buried under asphalt!

Shout at wall in front:
"Wait for me, I will come! "