The Loudest of Minds

Whore

You ask me why,
Do I fake my love.
Don't you fake sincerity,
When you live off it?

Why do I try to charm,
Everyone I meet? 
Wouldn't you smile at animals too,
If your life depended on it?

Maybe I don't know love,
Like you claim to do.
But that's only because,
I've had too much of it.

You call me your words,
Yet hear me quote my price.
It's just a world where,
Everyone has to eat.

I see the world of riches,
From outside. 
I see the men who belong there,
From inside.

Any man looks just as ugly,
Without his expensive clothes. 
And his grunts just as animal,
Despite his education.

You shame someone,
And call her a whore. 
Yet you need her, 
To get really, really naked.

Why wouldn't I curse at you,
When you don't seem interested. 
My vulgarised desperate life,
Leaves no heart to spare.

Seduction might be an effort,
Shame and luxury to you.
To me it is simply,
Mindless drudgery.

Don't blame me for broken homes.
This tangle of world,
Has few closures.

Maybe it's the whore,
Maybe the man,
Or wife. 
Maybe the job, 
And the lack of a living.

Maybe something,
Maybe something else.
Maybe everything.

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