And dirty games
And hallowed arts
Remembered well in those who left
Pity be to those who rest
Someday soon they'll disappear
Like words that no one wants to hear
They'll disappear from alleyways
From every dark forgotten place
All places that they've been before,
To which they will return once more.
No copper coins can save them now,
Nor that paper folds could aid, somehow,
And all their tips, for all their tricks,
Are jumbled round like pickup sticks.
Be needle or for broken bone,
Joint abuse or abuse alone,
Leering men, or fearing them,
Are those who escape the life they chose.
The shattered cries of shattered lives,
Those girls who never become wives.
Dyed blonde hair and burnt bronze skin
With love to spare and games to win
With all the makeup in the world,
Yet eyeshadow won't save these girls.
After a while, there are always marks on the arms,
Shadows under the eyes that mirror such harms
Tired mouths, sad eyes, a certain slink in their walk
Red flags, black flags, girls 'round the block.
Once they're in, there is no escape
Save as a story on ticker tape
No one they know has the will or the way
No one knows the right thing to say
Save anchormen in the aftermath,
Tracing, painting such horrid paths
So no one speaks, as pretty girls disappear
Like the ugly words no one wants to hear.