The Underaged Escort
Guided into the banquet hall like a piece of meat,
Shoved into a seat.
Disregarded I swallow defeat.
No one at his charity event gives a shit
That underaged I've downed my first shot of tequila which hits
The back of my throat like the decorative candles that are lit.
I'm treated like an escort
To the high class man who should go to court
For treating his step daughter like a consort.
I suppose I should be glad
That he took my family clad
In rags io his home, but I'm sad.
Sad that I must continue this façade
So people can believe he is a god
Amongst men. And they continue to be awed,
Not by his blatant disregard
For morals, but rather his fake charity and real bank card.
It really hits me hard,
So I lust after dreams most would call nightmares;
He's struck down from his pile of diamonds, his business affairs.
And I'll watch his blood stain them to rubies and pray no one cares
That I pulled the trigger.
Because I am a happy gold digger,
But only so my family can stand taller and I can look bigger
Knowing that I saved my mother and brother
From being controlled by another
Over bearing, abusive force.
I have no hope for that of course,
So for now I am his pleasures source.
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