The town's a little girl
Rotten to her core
Hawking her secrets
To the public

I see her, everyday
Fiddling with the miscreants
Rubbing the wrinkled noses
Of sensible people in mud

For what can they do?
They stare, beaten
By her sheer arrogance
Pummeled to cowardice

The stench of the rot
Hits my nostrils
Like a giant's fist
I tumble in shock

The town's a little girl
Grown men lick their lips
Whistling in endearing tunes
And drum curses after use

She stands confused, a tool
The belt buckle came off
Ushering in pleasure hmms
Only to be beaten to move

She stands in hell, unburned
Begging to be saved
But not her feet
Which she planted on greed

I see her at Five junction
In underage hawkers
Their wares on shaky heads
But their arms are meant to beg

I see her in the town hall
Where experience teaches in vain
And white hairs know not it
In foolishness, she's ingrained

The town's a little girl
Who must be woken up
Because her clock ticks
And nature is punctual

She must become a woman
Her womb must be her saviour
Motherhood her Holy Grail
Her legs in one path; equity

The town's a little girl
And we must teach her
To be one, and to fetch water
For her growth


© Jigs Lionheart