The Whore

Talismans and trinkets
Adorn her barren soul
The emblem of a cross
Is tattooed across a mole…

She calls down city streets
And winks as men walk by
Come and play for free
Come give me a try…

They say she's lost her soul
And is living way too fast
But something flickers there
Just as when she once was chaste…

Each dawn begins a day
But her tears are never seen
She hides them in a trinket
Behind a hopeless dream…

Once she dreamed of romance
And set her hope so high
But that was long ago…
Before Love made her cry

Sharon Frye