We Are All Prostitutes Poem by Andesikuteb yamusa

If all you know how to do is to degrade angels,
The womenfolk amongst us,
Those pure souls whose lives are just,
Then all of us are prostitutes.

You insult her just because she loved you,
Open her legs wide to u anytime you wish,
And you devoured all of it and none to remain you left,
Oh how she screams
Oh how she moans
She is a prostitute.

You will never think of the many you slept with,
For your crowns is in your trousers.
All you live for
All your existence.
Yours is to be foolish,
To call an angel a prostitute.

All women deserve our honour,
Those in the brothel who fight strong and strange wars with themselves to survive,
Even those at home who are been brutally rape in the name of marriage.
All this ones deserve the angel treatment.
For if your definition of a prostitute,
Is one who sleeps around.
All of us then are prostitute