Come now, my friend, come walk with me
through streets of dreaded hell. Walk with
me to garbage dumps, dark alleys, nasty
mattresses smell-won’t you walk with
me more and more to learn what befalls a
lost desperate whore. Won’t you take me
by the arm, lift me if you can, or would you
shy away leaving me here-look-
among the dirty drooling creeps of night
that ne’re sleep. Come-walk with me,
touch the soil where tattered shoes dent,
kiss the lips of those who never speak, feel
the pulse of the near dead, look upon the
crowd of dread. Careful now-step over
those who lie still on bedded ground, never
to move again, corpse after corpse of
uncared souls, Oh yes- come-walk
with me, can you see a possibility of
hope. Do you believe -I- want to survive,
to live as you, to thrive. Look at me, study
my weathered face, look into my lifeless eyes,
I’ve lost the feel for grace - love is not my
desire. I must eat, try to keep my heart full of
fire. Survival of the fittest, a number one
concern. Come, my street friend, walk with
me, see what stores my fate. I’ll not live to
see another year, nor will I have a love to
share. In charge no longer of my own
destiny for I have created a travesty. One
day a hose will blow my way, I shall fall
to the ground, swept away like waste
in a barn, I’ll lay dead and mutilated.
Walk with me, see where I go, so you will
never be- that old lost desperate whore
who feared her true destiny.
Written: January 2/2007
Melvina Germain
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/735-lost-desperate-whore-walk-with-me/
