Street Light

There’s  a story I’m trying to tell…

The tears cost her more than she’ll ever earn
And yet she lets herself crave and then burn
You see the fancy clothes, the heels, the skirt
From the outside, you tend to ignore the dirt.

I’ll tell you a story but the truth’s not mine to lend:
I’ve learnt some things break far too much to mend.
Of course she looks fine, of course she smiles
What you never see is just how much she cries…

Every night she cries and that’s the price to pay,
And she doesn’t care at all so judge, you may.
The pain buries her but she never disappears,
Because she has more to live for than her fears.

She is innocence wrapped in layers of dust,
Layers of alluring clothes and cheap lust.
She sells all her life just for her, another,
Because a daughter means so much to her mother.

She puts her daughter to sleep and plants a kiss
And promises that she’d never know any of this.
Then in the cold she stands under a street light,
Waiting for a red car to pick her up for the night.

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