Sometimes you see her leaning
Against some shanty door
Or buying expensive perfume
In some fancy store

She walks alone at night
On a main road or a street
Leaning against a lamp-post
Hoping some customer to meet

She's in a five-star hotel
Or in some gangland den
In ghettoes or in palaces
Wherever there are hungry men

Each one has a story
That they would rather forget
Their only concern to make sure
That a man's needs are met

Whether in a back street
Or in some hotel bright
She's busy all day long
Though works mostly at night

You think she has fallen
That her story is so sad
A tale of abject misery
Of a decent life gone bad

Yet as long as there are hungry men
She'll be there to meet their need
That they may vent their desires
Then respectable lives can lead

A profession though condemned
She fulfills society's need
And if other women are safer
You have to thank her indeed

So don't forget she's a mother
When a hungry child she feeds
Or a daughter of poor parents
Or a sister of a brother who reads

A lustful man will leave his seed
And leave his bastard at some door
She prefers to care for his child
Even if she becomes a whore

Don't forget the ones at home
For security giving their minds
Getting raped every night
Within society's binds

If sanction makes these women pure
Hesitate before you condemn
The women who sell their bodies
In a world created by men

~Sumaitri~

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