What is the difference,
Asked the educator,
Between being skillful,
Such as a *******,
And being educated,
Such as a teacher?

*Well, replied a prostitue,
One educates skillfully,
The other skillfully educates.

Which is which?
The educator responded.

Depends, said the *******,
On the pay and benefits.

Call it any name.
They still supply the same thing.
It's just the description of the rules that changed.

The Mistress.
The Other Woman.
The Prostitue.
They get paid in similar ways.
For the gifts that they exchange.

Comfort women.
An old trade that many doubt will go anywhere.

Men seeks them out.
Even if they don't advertise.
Men are pursuers of lust.
And the comfort women are the prize.

Money attracts.
Women gives back.
Men are fools.
And the comfort women are the tools.

We can arrest them.
We can expose them.
But at the end of the day.
They relaxed a man somewhere along the way.

Be it the businessman.
Be it the husband.
Or another woman's lover.
The comfort women knows all about them.

Some write books deleteing the names.
Just to protect the good name of the high powerful.
Who hides truth in many ways?

Soldiers been there.
Cowboys went too.
And I hate to say it.
Their biggest distractors the ministers too.

The one that suppose to put moral values in you.
Which proves many aren't better then us.

Yes, comfort women.
Doing the same thing that women in marriages does.

We  should act better.
Except, we be only fooling ourselves.
Cause the athletes used money to attract the women they have.
No play.
If you can't pay.
We can hide behind lies.
It's just the truth says so much more.

Comfort women.
If they did it by their own accord.
Then we shouldn't judge them too harsh.

For, to the man they was comfort women of joy.

i'm not a poet, i'm not yelling this... i'm not going to give it a ****'s worth of oratory footage in a video... it's just "thinking", out-loud. oh **** me, ***** is evil once you've been drinking *** for a few days... but beginning with 70cl in the early afternoon, and ending with 1litre of *** at night... you start to walk like a crack addict cockroach... scuttling as fast as a cheetah.

oh... so you don't think you'd be in intimidated by ten
bulagiran prostitutes sitting before you,
and trying to fake king solomon?
try it...
         i had this drunk impromptu once with 10 of them...
please, can one of your girl choose me,
i'm a bit fatigued with regard to making a choice,
i just want to ****...
then one starts talking: you're not supposed to say that!
that's heresesy in prostitution.
so i reply: well... aren't you the talkative one...
you'll do, just fine.                        pwoad boys my ***.
and yeah, that's how the freudian madonna-***** complex
works... you can get an *******, drunk as ****
with a *******...
               sober or drunk with a "normal" girl in society?
a bit hard... she pretends to be a ******, and then lies
about how manhy guys she's ******;
my **** always used to be: yes? no. yes? no. yes? no!
        at least with prostitutes you can objectify down
to the genitals, proper...
             and there's no subjective-façade of:
you can be my boyfriend; that's the sick bit about *******
women that aren't prostitutes...
   there's the objective-façade of a ****...
but the girl... she's not thinking about an hour's worth of ****...
      she's internalising something that what
a man, might be, simply pulverising
                                    to imply: a wedding ring...
                           i don't know man, go to a prostitue,
    and then **** a universnity anthropology / psychology
chick... you'll be able to get a *litmus test
       for your ****, + ego... between acid *******,
              and alkaline girlfriends in the future...
it goes like this: you **** her gentials, she ***** your ego...
thank **** that prostitutes are neutrons in this atom
construct.