A Girl Story

Everyone call her by various names–

Pros, prostitute, whore, call girl, etcetera.

But, no one know her story.

No, it is not a sad one again not happy actually.

She’s addicted to glam & gloss & all

She’s addicted to drug & powder & all.

Yes she had a troubled teen years

Thanks to her Mamma…you shocked…

Her Mamma was a good lady;

Used to love party, drink, booze & men.

She had grown up seeing her Mamma

In expensive attire; returning with a new man every night.

You ask of her father…

No one knows who is he…

Story goes it is her uncle…

Some says it was her grandpa…

She was only eighteen when she had her first drink.

She was only nineteen when she first have sex–

And that too for a bottle of beer–some says she was raped.

Her Mamma die on her twentieth birthday.

She had pushed Mamma down the stair

When she was leaving for a party.

Accidenttripped down the staircase

Police report states; everyone says.

Like the happening, reasoning is only her secret

That she doesn’t ever share with me.

Now she dress like her Mamma and–

Goes to party for booze and sex.

Twice or thrice a week I see her with man;

Sometimes woman also…

Lifestyle, she had said me once

When she was chatting with me,

It is all about lifestyle

No one have seen her cry

Except me–her dear friend another she

Entrapped in mirror.




36 thoughts on “A Girl Story”

  1. sometimes guilt at our own heritage makes us be exactly what we promise we won’t. you dont judge her, I like that, you just tell her story, you are a man above the rest. Once again such gentle words telling a difficult tale. I salute you my poet friend!


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