I’m a Prostitute

In actions I believe
though it’s a forceful belief
In love, I go mute
’cause I’m a prostitute

Parents left when I was twelve
not a penny in our shelve
Family lent some hands
But only to remove my pants

Resided all alone in an old hut
Had been raped several times, no slut
Then reality of life, harsh and naked
Profession by mind, became a part of racket

I was in a dilemma
Was pleading for death
’cause an escape by heart
Wish I’d skipped a breath

Not all young beauties
suffer the same
If they were in my place
Hell would be no name

I wish I were never born
Or just wouldn’t have grown
I wish I had known
My life would turn this way

He has showered enough love
Now, don’t need any gratitude
I’ve acknowledged the fact
That I’m a Prostitute

Under his grace, how could one be disgrace?
Heartless creatures or Satan’s children?
I often doubt the human race!

Does he exist or just a name?
’cause only crimes lead to fame

Had he been a being
He would have felt the pain
I may do infinite good deeds
But I’ll have nothing ever to gain

Sasha Alahm

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About Ijagun Poetry Journal

Ijagun Poetry Journal is a quarterly journal that provides a platform from which we can tell our own stories in the authenticity of their multiplicity through the poetic medium. We don’t want to hear these stories from our master “griots” alone; we want to hear from those mastering their art, too. Hence, we aim at publishing new and emerging poets. We also welcome the works of established poets in order to encourage the poetic genius of those mastering poetic art. We prize original works that conform to, break or reinvent conventions. Again, we accept reviews and critical essays on poetry. We also accept powerful art works and photographs that make us appreciate the "poetry" in everything.
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