Dear diary, 17.08.2018

She wears a short clothes,

Glittery dresses with high heels,

Fakes her smile with the dark lipstick.

Whenever she goes out,eyes with always down,

auctioned body,her soul means nothing.

She owned,as a thing,

Everyday with everynight,

Different faces stares her with lusty eyes.

She learned to dance with poles,

These creepy man just need the hole.

A deny one day could choak her throat,

Ofcourse,How could she refuse,with money she was brought.

At the age of 11 her body started bleeding,Its not mensturation,its men-pentrating,

Several slaps,several beats,but no-ones to cares.

Make-ups everyday,she is tired of perfumes,

Cries her heart out,when she watches caring grooms.

but her life is a waste,no book,no love,

Forced to be touched in the beds and clubs.

the pain her body sends her to hell,

Suffering from many diseases and AIDS.

Dreams to flee and survival her hopes;

And,when she realised,She can’t escape but stay,

Convinces,herself saying ā€ I save Rape Everyday”.

Society called them ā€œPROSTITUTES”…

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