Trading Roses for Rotten Fruit
We who trade roses
For rotten fruit
Never seem to find a way
To get them back
And we lose our beauty
In our tender youth
And spend our whole lives
Wondering if we’ll ever
Deal Again
Weren’t we always gilded
in our virtue?
Weren’t we taught
To shy away from crime?
Didn’t we get guilted
For our value?
To feel ashamed for
Being in our prime?
And did those sordid eyes
Find cause to linger?
Worrying our hems
With their desire
No one ever warned us
Of the danger
Or taught us not to
Feed our favor to the fire
Wasn’t it their wish
That we’d be wilted?
That, perhaps, we’d never
Wander off again
Then maybe we’d remember
And be jilted
Shaken into steering clear
Of men
For we who trade roses
For rotten fruit
Never seem to find a way
To get them back
And we lose our beauty
In our tender youth
And spend our whole lives
Wondering if we’ll ever
Feel again
