Looking for a saviour under the stars

Men slow then stop their cars.

Girls under street lamps stand

Waiting for their lord’s command.

Needle pricks scar their arms

Still men discern a certain charm.

Girls think of their next fix

Man moistens his dry lips.

“I seek a saviour of a kind

In the hope some inner peace I may find”

He says shuddering at her needle lines.

“Your saviour I will be

Provided you can pay my fee.

A girl must live. Love isn’t free”,

She says gazing at a distant tree.

She thinks of her girlhood not so long ago

Of trees their boughs bent under the weight of snow.

She thinks “once I could not be bought

Before hard drugs their damage rought”.

The man holds out cold hard cash

She takes it with a bitter laugh.

Stepping in through the car’s open door

She wonders if…