At twelve I was kicked out of school

Got pregnant because I was a fool

From home my parents threw me out

Better of dead than the shame, they did shout

Pre-maturely a baby girl was born

Soon after she died and inside I was torn

Work I did try so hard in getting

Cleaning, washing and even farming

Many doors were banged on my face

Thank God they didn’t have mace

For food in my mouth and clothes on my back

Had to do only thing I got the knack

Someone told me it’d be easier in town

Left the village carrying a paper bag with one gown

For a roof over my head, a place to dwell

Got pimped, doped and beaten up well

A couple of times over and over got raped

The pain and humiliation not to feel I got doped

The wam bams another pregnancy they brought

As using protection was hardly a thought

Guilt and sad memories deep in my soul did dive

Had to do anything to keep this one alive

Still very sore from delivering

Had to go earn instead of bickering

Some even back entry they wanted

Ugly, fat, dirty, short, on me they all panted

Some wanted no protection

Desperate I was so didn’t think of infection

Another baby soon made its way

For me it was indeed another sad day

My babies constantly crying and hungry

Which made me more desperate and angry

Ashamed of my life I was and I am

But I already am too deep in the swirling dam

No-protection and back entry were my middle name

The virus I got, all in the name of the game

No money for a healthy diet or medication

Lost weight, my looks and gained alienation

Wanted to die, wanted to take my life

But how about my babies as I am nobody’s wife

Got to live for my babies, got to keep alive

Please, let me live at least until the last is five

Another trade I quickly had to learn

As my regulars I could hardly pen

Gate-crashing big parties I became a pro

I would borrow a nice dress and not look like a ho

I would see a handbag, camera or cell phone,

Sell it for bread and some milk or even get a loan

Terrified of getting caught and beaten I’d always pray

I know even jail I would face for it was the price to pay

With my sickness I knew wouldn’t last in a cell

But my babies need food so my soul I would sell

Its midnight and I have made nothing all day

My babies have only had water I’m ashamed to say

I see many cars at the Royal Palm Hotel

Must be a concert or wedding for someone big I can tell

I see some have started leaving

To their posh cars they are heading

Perfect time to make my way inside

No securities around, to break my stride

Inside I can get if quietly I sneak

Won’t be noticed if I don’t make a squeak

I see phones, camera and bags everywhere

To eat I must get one or at least a pair

Oh that lady puts a phone in a black bag

And a camera she shoves in and puts out a fag

Don’t know what that other thing is but who cares

That’s a goodie bag that will get me some food shares

God forgive me, but there is no other way

To take it I must or my babies and I will die in a day

Living the bag with friends to watch it over

She’s gone across the hall maybe to see a lover

Oh, her friends are getting up to go dance

No waitresses, no security, this is my chance

Thank you, I know now my babies will be

I can grab the handbag and now flee

Copyright Sandra A. Mushi . All rights Reserved