The Dark Life

 

The life I have,

Is not all that,

Great.

I use my body,

To get money,

To feed my little,

Ones.

A street hooker,

Is not the life,

For me.

But I do this,

For them,

More then for myself.

I see a nice well pay,

Car coming up to me.

Time to work the,

Magic.

Everyday is a routine.

Stand,

Mess around with people,

To look,

Show what is needed,

Be ready for blow-jobs,

Or doggy-style.

I do both very well,

Done.

I find myself,

At home.

The little ones,

Are asleep.

Well almost all of them.

My eldest,

Who knows my true form,

Is always waiting,

For me.

He welcomes me,

With a teary-smile.

Just glad that I’m home.

Other hookers,

Would give up a child,

Or rid of it before birth.

I’m to kind-hearted for that.

They are my blood,

My kin.

My light of this dark,

Life I have.

I’m glad to always,

Have them near me.

One day,

I hope to give them,

A better life.

One wants a puppy.

Another a pool.

New shoes,

is what,

My youngest wants.

Dreams I plan to see,

Through.

I just want to live,

To see it through.

The night before,

Could have been my,

Last.

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