IMPURE

Wanna walk out of this lonely place,

Where every wall is a 'wall of disgrace'

Every step here,has it's own story,

As you displayed my body for your 'self-glory'

You call this place a 'pleasure-house'

''Surely it is,I'm not allowed to wear even my blouse''

I cry,I scream,I yell

I can do anything to get out of this hell.

Every inch of me is touched,sucked and scratched,

Just like the fruit that has been completely mashed.

You just keep pushing out and in

And bring new one's to complete your routine

All this harshness has made me Impure

Now there's nothing in me that I myself can endure.