Prostitute and Her Client

The pink lingerie fits perfectly
Lips dipped in crimson red
The perfume of a royal flower
The clients are to be pleased

The door opens for one
He’s unlike the usual man
Sunglasses covering his eyes
He growls for “a young one”

She appears with an uneasy smile
It is her virgin day after all
He limps towards her
It is not a physical injury

Behind closed doors the girl strips
Yet the man stares at the floor
As folded clothes are laid beside
The carpet turns dark and moist

The girl is astonished
She was prepared but not for this
Biting her nails she paces around
The man calls for her to sit down

A new fetish perhaps
Or he is the sudden violent type
She braces herself for a tight slap
Yet receives a hug instead

Tears drop down her shoulder
The man is now just a man
He cries for comfort
And she returns it in her way

It was supposed to be their fourth anniversary
They were to head out to their favourite place
Under the night sky they would enjoy
Dinner for two

He could not finish his words
All the man could do was cry in sorrow
The girl sat there and held his hands
And both of them waited

She was just studying the day before
Worries were of school and friends
Her life shattered as men took her away
Her parents waved goodbye at gunpoint

“Life never ends up the way it should be
We are placed together and picked apart at whim
I however with all that in mind can say
That I am here for you now”

The man never saw her again
The girl disappeared the next day
Some tell me the brothel never existed
My father tells me otherwise

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