Ayami Greenwood
They call her trash
to bash her self-esteem
But, this was not her dream
to walk the streets, amid hate,
hoping strangers will stalk her,
hoping for cash, for a date.
The streets are her bitter beat
The streets are a trap full of danger
But perhaps, it’s her lucky day.
Perhaps, the heat will stay away.
It’s shockng, how she’s dressed,
scanty yet, a fashionable sight.
She’s bold in the cold, to fuel a fire,
to tantalize eyes, in a flash.
Where will she crash late tonight?
Coping: it’s ever a plight, a sorry state.
It’s not right, not wise, but crap.
It seems cruel: to lock her up in jail.
Let’s talk about a safe place,
a place to meet good, kind folk,
folk who will not make her a joke.
For her sake, she needs a dream come true.
Let’s not fail her, in defaeat.
It takes me and you, for a change
and a brand new approach,
not reproach, another slap in the face.
Her case is due, not to wait.
We all know what to do: educate.
