She had no light to offer For the man in the deep dark gutter But she learnt to poke and drill holes On her skin, bones and soul He got his head above the water And made his way out of the clutter She longed for his momentarily hold But he wants to touch and see her bold Every curve and angle of her body Was bruised, then rot slowly Oh, her skin he strip and flay Like she was an object to play The holes, got bigger and not better Ashamed, she let herself touch his ***** She was disgusted, tried to dispute For making her a woman of ill repute She thought he intended to leave poems No, it was pitch black, monochrome Life she was given of, left dying Marks that she regret having And she could not erase it all No, no, no, itβs her downfall Touch, itβs been said and done She ran, and in her pocket was a gun Quickly, she climbed in the gutter Upholding the scarlet letter
I am not an educated poet and thus my works have no structure. I write what came out of my heart.