Urban, muddy and grey
there is no more than death
of a shimmery tale
With a shivering hand
remove layers of pale
And the parting with life
When this girl is for sale
Where the bridges have burnt
Leaving jacks in her skin
And there's not much to lose
But there's nothing to win
There's a sign in the night
She has already left
And , taking her life
Is no longer a theft
So she parts on a train
Weary, quivering, cold
But yet - she wakes sweaty,
And nauseous with pain
And the blood from her nose
It has dried on her lip
With that bitter, grim taste
Eager hands on her hip
She remains where she is
No more trips to afford
She's a doll to the world
To be used,
when man
is bored.
- Litage
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