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, it’s her downfall
Touch, it’s 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.