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Memoirs of a *** slave

I cant help but cry myself to sleep tonight,

for another customer lays asleep at my right.

When will this life of terror end?

In the brothel no one is your friend.

Used at night and tortured by day,

nothing at all will ever make this pain go away.

The owners convince us we owe them some debt,

but who am i to argue? i have no fight left.

Each night,fifty,sixty, men or more,

do they know that they hurt me?

or am i just a common *****

i know my place and when to speak and behave.

But to them, and even to me,

im just a worthless *** slave.

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Written by
alicia-d-clarke
Published
Aug 6, 2012
Lines·Words
14·111
Notes

for Sarihna, an eleven year old girl who died in the brothel.

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