Another night of prostitution. Men
and women pay for shallow pleasures. Lights
are dimmed and sounds diminish. It is then
I know my fate must be accepted. Rights
and wrongs play no part, entertainment takes
a precedence, all else is tossed aside.
Performers forced to focus on what makes
the crowd content, while I, undignified,
must lose all pride.
Priority to sell
a trick of cheapened tickets. Art replaced
by ditties which for me become the knell
of death and yet the option being faced
is obsolescence. One must make a choice:
silence or a false profitable voice.