Prostitute

Hungry were the people
They ate like a pig
Till the end of last grain
They were licking the pot
One can eat it, enjoy it
As much he wants
She is a source of eternal pleasure
Whose soul is wounded.




Poetry by Aashish Thakur
Read 562 times
Written on 2006-07-01 at 16:08

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I like very much your way of quietly denouncing and describing in your texts the miseries of the world.
2006-07-02


Teala
Very true, good imagery and metaphors here.
2006-07-01


Arti
Horrible reality...Beautiful metaphor...
((hugs))
2006-07-01


Zoya Zaidi
It is a Gruisome reality!
But that is what the life of a harlot is supposed to be-gruesome...

Very well thought up Metaphor...

Makes my heart go out to these women...

**Hugs Salem**
love, xxx, Zoya
2006-07-01


Zoya Zaidi
It is a Gruisome reality!
But that is what the life of a harlot is supposed to be-gruesome...

Very well thought up Metaphor...

Makes my heart go out to these women...

**Hugs Salem**
love, xxx, Zoya
2006-07-01


Zoya Zaidi
It is a Gruisome reality!
But that is what the life of a harlot is supposed to be-gruesome...

Very well thought up Metaphor...

Makes my heart go out to these women...

**Hugs Salem**
love, xxx, Zoya
2006-07-01


kid
very sad your poem is full of vividness i like it
2006-07-01