Her
head buried in her hands,
Face
covered in makeup,
An
identity concealed between her legs,
Her
body was a testimony of passionless exploits.
Clothes
shredded at the sight of men,
Alcohol
to cradle her to sleep,
As
she gave in to urges,
Suppressing
the tidings of love,
Every
morning the mirror faithfully displayed,
The
reflections of a lost soul.
Closing
her eyes every night, to find love,
She
woke up every morning, in the bed of heartless men.
With
no recollection of the love she once had,
She
was The New Hustler In Town.
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