Dahlia Mark

Cut the noise, boys.
Mama's home now,
I can feel the quiver,
the interest of the crowd.

Let me put my lips
on the crest of the mic,
have you all cheering
to a Marilyn look-a-like.

"Black days ahead,
black days and black eyes.
But, I'll get my bread.
What can a girl do but try..."

They whisper like rats
in the comfort of the dark,
because I'm bad, you see.
I've got the Dahlia mark.

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