Prostitute

by Aashish Thakur

Nobody dies from hunger here,

She is an everlasting meal,

So like a hog, people eat her

So like a dog, people lick her

Nobody ever lost path here

She is a joyride, safe and controlled

So like a pirate, people loot the boat

So like a pilot, people fly the plane

Nobody looses senses here

She is a bar of different kind

Where wine cups are filled with tears

And soul has so much to bear

But like a full moon, she shines from the pain,

and that crumpled bed sheet tells- all this affair is, nobody’s gain.