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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