There aren’t any stars,
but heavy footsteps in heaven,
angry rain falling from the mouth
of a silver dragon, determined to burn
your flesh clean while you,
tired of donning work and dust
to cover your scars and frailties
and sins, run your fingers through
your temperamental hair over and over
just to feel as if you really are
making a difference by not letting
Delilah part from you a single strand
and the last of your strength.
Laugh, cry, and laugh some more;
life is the pimp,
and you are the whore.
PIMPS AND WHORES © 2013 BY SAHM ATAINE KING. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.