The Whore

Leaning to the wall when the hustler cast her eyes ,
She with her juvenile attitude wants to lure guys,        
She twists, turns and poses with all her curves,
she wants to challenge the agile nerves.

By the road side when the tart moves her wrist,
She with the clanking of bangles says that she still exists,    
She adores herself, and tries to prove herself as Scarlett,
She always competes and tries to lead amidst the market.



Standing in the brothell the brass whispers tunes of love,
She sounds her feet bells in rythm for every move,
Her hands and feet are in sync,
Thereby accelerating the tipsiness of drink.



She is a woman always called as slut,
Though no one ever realised what she want,
She made love but did not receive the exact worthiness,
Somewhere in her heart she tries to fill the emptiness.    

Yet she stands,sings and moves to conjure hearts and mind,
yet she stands,sings and moves to make love and to find,
Is there someone who is so loving and kind,
Her man to fly her out and prove to be her soothing wind.