whore

catefrancescatefrances Posts: 29,003
edited March 2007 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
they used to call me a whore
but they liked what i gave them
they used to call me a whore
but they liked when i gave it up to them
i did what i did cause i wanted to
no one pushed me or threatened my life
they used to call me a whore
but they all came back to me
they liked what i had
and that i was willing to share it
they liked what i had
and that i knew how to use it
they liked what i had
and i had what they liked
they called me a whore
but they're the ones
who sold themselves
i saw one of the boys
who wanted my body
i saw one of the boys
he was now selling his
i saw one of the boys
now that boy's just a whore
it gives me no comfort
no sense of conviction
that boy's just a whore
he's killing himself just to live
he fucks for the money
cause there's no longer the pleasure
he fucks for the money
to feed his bad habit
he fucks for the money
i never did that
he fucks for the money
but never flat on his back
they use to call me a whore
now who's paying the price?
hear my name
take a good look
this could be the day
hold my hand
lie beside me
i just need to say
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • chadwickchadwick up my ass Posts: 21,157
    i like this..very cool..i feel the sadness in your word, whore..
    i dont like the word personaly..its harsh, and i sware all day long..
    and it is what you have that they want..so why do they degrade what they are after? silly really..
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."

    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
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