Boy

College freshman, no money.

"Boy" was all I heard,

"Boy..."

It echoed so perfectly in my ear.

The term I'd become a man to escape,

The one word fought to renounce.

Now lingering, looming through smoke and lights

The word spoken by a dirty... old... man

Wearing tight jeans looking for a good time.

"Boy..."

The term so harmless it hurt.

"Boy" I heard it again,

Waiting for a response...

"Be my little boy tonight..." it continued.

The words' force burning a hole in my brain,

Waiting for a response.

"Boy... Little boy, how much, little boy?"

The sound of it reverberated off the street lamps.

The force of it, the filth of it put me in my place,

Waiting for a response.

My lips parted, "Seventy-five."

Author's Note

Please, be constructive.

Reviews

[N!LoC]

ok so lemme get this straight.... boy = selling yourself ?

[...]

Wow! This is intense!