The Prostitute

Once in a while I reflect
Upon the sadness
In you
Is your heart so cold?
You can never love again

Or do you love
Just
Once in a while
When your loins burn

Your crying is over yourself

Whilst most others cry for someone sweet
Someone new
And care only for them

Once in a while

Not unlike yourself

About this poem

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“The Prostitute”
Written and Published by Paul Buttigieg

Published: 
April 13th, 2010
Category: 
General
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