"The Whore House"
Lucy used to dance around the chances of rain
stayed out to play, pranced and prayed for the storm’s delay.
But skies turned sinister and foul, dark as night came down,
heavier than dragging rain clouds floating above the ground.
Moon beams cut lightly across evening as silent greetings
rolled from thunder’s lips and daylight began fleeing
over the expanses of housing; high rises that don’t shine,
as water dripped from crooked cracks, hidden ‘til the sun died.
Her smile drooped and turned to sadness. Driven inside,
she died a bit as time flies and she could only sit idly by.
Her step-dad’s boots entered the room, he hums a tune
and turns to croon but sees Lucy with wet pants and shoes.
Stopping short of her, he grabbed a strap and quickly asks,
“Honey, what happened to your brand new pants?”
But, before she answers back, he’s swung the leather strap
letting the rawhide lick against her neck and back.
Descending upon her, he rips and tears her clothes,
pummeling her little face and nearly breaking her nose,
then with the same quickness that came with his hate
he goes back to the bedroom, to continue her mother’s rape.
She’s been beaten, fucked, and degraded since they married
and this cretin tucked her, elated, into bed before he carried
her mother away into slavery, sinful yet bravely.
He knew the outcome, and only wanted to fuck the baby.
So when mother left, he would use Lucy, her youth
is what he lusted after. Sadly, it’s the sick truth.
That was in her childhood, where a child stood,
unwilling to be cast out, alone, into a wild neighborhood.
She went to school, played cool, dated dudes and got used,
But eventually confused lust for love, she birthed two
babies with mouths full of pleas, tears and lofty dreams
that she vows will not be dashed by piercing screams
or the presence of a conniving, useless man
who promises the world, but only gives her his hand.
And now, well, Lucy has overcome the odds and all,
emerging from her parking stall near the elevator’s wall.
A high level executive, she left the kids, with their father,
no longer questioning her decisions, she took a corporate offer
For a receptionist position, but quickly climbed
into line for advancement from her meager rank in life.
Riding the elevator she leans, listening to her CD player,
on the way to a meeting that might make her
the youngest woman to have excelled this high up
into the company’s fine trust. Co-workers find lust
as she struts past them all, into the conference room.
Shades draw as she hums a low tune.
Stripping down to negligee, her coat lies on the table,
the sable robe opens to reveal the office staple;
her body, naked and waiting for the current chairman
to take her and do what he wants, she can barely hear him.
All she feels are her step father’s plans, and icy glands,
wrapping around her legs and opening them with his hands,
which pry and poke, no one knows the joke,
that she fucks her way to the top. She knows the ropes.
She has hopes, and dreams, but uses her sexuality now,
She fucks in board room, instead of the whore house.
this is definitely something rushed and i am not happy about it, but its your chance RICO. bring that heat.