The click clack echoes of cheap stilettos on cracked pavement let you know she's near
There is no fear in her eyes
Lined thick and black as the night sky
For she is the goddess of these blocks
And men would sacrifice their blood and sweat wages to worship in her temple

She is a walking master piece
Crafted in the shaky hands of abandonment and abuse
It took nineteen long years to create a soul so dark you could get lost just staring into it
And she's been trying to find her way back to herself for years

She is a walking tragedy
Of Shakespearian proportions
Her love stories are not so romantic and clean
They usually take place in some stranger's back seat
After some hastily exchanged words
Some stranger's rough cheek
Pressed harshly against hers
And from the outside it could almost be called love
Two people finding themselves in the arms of another
But still being completely alone in the world

This is her existence
Moonlit rendezvous
Short skirts and fishnets with holes up the sides
She's just someone to call during the lonely nights
And as they spread her thighs
They don't realize that they're filling her and killing her at the same time
She sells her body and her pride on these streets just to survive
No one knows of the little girl that hides inside that cries inside
That begs you with her eyes to save her from herself
Save her from these streets
Kiss her on the cheek and let her ride in the front seat
She doesn't care where you are going
As long as its away from here
Where ever you and she stop will be called home
And she will finally be allowed to rest.