The Price

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This poetry is about the price person pays to do things outside the ordinary. It speaks about the risk of getting involved in unspeakable acts.

The Price

At the dead of the clouded hungry night,

Patient for hours till the dream of hope arose.

Curdled in nature, bathing in the confused tender breeze,

A glance at the self-destruction of her prime.

Standing by the pole, waiting hungrily:

Exhibiting her sides, colour, shape and accessories,

Standing by her spot springing forth infatuation trail as bait:

To express the inner beast that lies on the taste of her worth.

Hello, how much for a night? Asked a stranger who drove by.

It is Five thousand! she convinced the man with a smile.

She laid her price at the feet of shame and pain,

She gave in to the arm of a condemned entity, the midnight sun.

A woman drained off in pride, hope and courage,

Wasted today, emptied for the morrow that is yet to come.

At the time when age kills the flesh and bone,

She remained beautified in the trash, like the tasteless salt.

At last, she asked, How could I have survived all the hurdles?

A real woman would reply to her, โ€œThe very way I did for myself, not for others?โ€

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Olusola Butler

I write a lot, on everything and anything. I am that ordinary guy with a whole lot of good to offer. I love art, music and poetry.

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