I saw her standing
alone on the corner.
Her lipstick bright and red.
She swayed her hips
and flashed her smile.
I wondered: Is her soul dead?
A car pulled up
She got inside
Her laugh was loud and clear
Two hours passed
I waited and wached.
I needed to see her here.
I saw her stagger up the road
blood pouring from her head.
Her skirt was ripped, her hair a mess
Her new top splashed with red.
I ran down the stairs
and out the door
I grabbed her off the street.
Holding her near
I brought her in
and helped her to her feet.
Too weak to stand,
she looked at me
and thanked me for being so kind.
What she'd done
she realised
she must've been out of her mind.
All she wanted was a nice life
one where I wouldn't need
now, she lay here dying
I watched her slowly bleed.
She made me promise to be good
As the break of dawn was nigh
That day, my mother, the prostitute
I watched her slowly die....
