Looking for a saviour under the stars
Men slow then stop their cars.
Girls under street lamps stand
Waiting for their lord’s command.
Needle pricks scar their arms
Still men discern a certain charm.
Girls think of their next fix
Man moistens his dry lips.
“I seek a saviour of a kind
In the hope some inner peace I may find”
He says shuddering at her needle lines.
“Your saviour I will be
Provided you can pay my fee.
A girl must live. Love isn’t free”,
She says gazing at a distant tree.
She thinks of her girlhood not so long ago
Of trees their boughs bent under the weight of snow.
She thinks “once I could not be bought
Before hard drugs their damage rought”.
The man holds out cold hard cash
She takes it with a bitter laugh.
Stepping in through the car’s open door
She wonders if…
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