Come on home
Working girl, just a young teen,
working areas, where the streets are mean.
Walking zombie, routined 'good time',
close her eyes and release the mine.
Owned and rented for cash on arrival,
earnings providing addiction survival.
With repulsion inside, hard to measure,
whilst man after man pays for his pleasure.
Scared, alone, terrified for her life,
adolescent child, protected by a knife.
With situations encountered, they often appear,
night after night, numb from fear.
Working girl, grew up too quick,
teenage child, doesn't get to pick.
Dressed too old, adopted woman's voice,
no 'yes or no', she doesn't get a choice.
No family, no friends - no route back
No-one responsible to keep her on track.
No street is safe for her to roam,
No-one there to say 'Come on home!'
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