soft grumbles

She wakes up at five
when the sun is about to set
to greet the stars anew,

checks her mobile phone
if she has calls and know
where she’s headed to.

She puts on her make-up,
heavier than yesterday’s
to numb her face,

wears cheap perfume
to hide her scent,
ready for what she has to do.

She dons a pretty dress,
skimpy and tight,
revealing her bosom

for all to see
she’s ready for the picking -
to look fresh and young

even for those who just pass by
not knowing her trade
or what her kind can do.

She goes out on the street
to ply her wares
to tease, cajole, or whatever

her clients tell her to perform.
She can be a nurse, a playmate,
a nanny or anything they fancy.

By early dawn
she could have earned
a dime or two,

or end up as someone’s
punching bag

that’s her fate which
she’s grown accustomed to.