Her eyes were red, as she opened them,
A syringe lying on the floor beside,
Feebly she stood up instantly falling down,
Though she cupped her hands, she hardly could hide.
Far at the other corner lied a skirt and a blouse,
Which wasn’t torn the last time she’d seen it,
But now tattered it was as if brought down,
By a lion to the last morsel, the room dimly lit.

She loathed back and sat, against the wall red with blood,
Her legs tightly stuck to hide her left ounce of womanhood,
She knew what she hid had lost its purpose,
Slowly again after a while she stood.
She came out into the light, and a hundred saw her,
Ashamed to see her spat on by humanity,
And whilst they tried to lower their heads,
She kept walking, ignoring the profanity.
And then she stood in the middle of the road,
And the truck opposite could not stop on time,
As it passed over her she did not cry,
She smiled to hear the death knoll chime.

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