February 23rd, 2005


(no subject)

Poem, untitled:

The first time
He called her a prostitute
because of how she dressed
She said no.
And walked away

The second time
He called her a whore
because of how she acted
She said no.
And walked away

The third time
He called her a bitch
because of how she talked
She said maybe.
And walked away

That same time
He followed her
because he was impatient
She said no.
But he wouldn't let her walk away

He threw a dollar at her feet
and made her a whore
She said nothing
And he walked away, laughing

The fourth time
He called her his sweetheart
because he had won
She said hi.
And he led her away

The fifth time
He asked her to be his wife
but didn't wait for an answer
because he didn't need to
She said yes.
And stayed by his side

Because she was his whore
And no one else would have her.
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