Prostitute....A Victim or a Culprit

She usually wears a torn clothes in the room, but she is going outside she will wear six inches of heels, fakes her smile with the lipstick.
Her soul means nothing for anyone, different faces every night and day,
All colours of her life are turned grey.
A deny of one day could make her dead,
How could she refuse, with money she was brought.
Eleven years of old, her body started bleeding;
It wasn't natural, it was a man of his lust.
Several slaps, her skin seems leather,
No-one cares, long gone to her mother.
Makeup everyday, she is tired of perfumes;
Cries her heart out when she watches caring grooms.
But it seems her life is a waste, no books, no love;
Forced to be touched in the bed and the clubs.
Haunted with AIDS and HIV as well;
The pain of her body sends her to hell.
But they continue, the greed never stops;
Dreams to flee and survival she hopes.
And when she realized she can't escape but stay;
Convince herself saying, "I SAVE RAPES EVERYDAY."