How do you deal with awkward situations,
Ones when you’re expected to have fun,
But find yourself in company you’d rather not be near,
Do you stick it out, pretend or simply run?
What if this situation was created
By a friend who thought her friends would suit you too,
Introduced you to some people that you hated
In that strange situation, what’s to do?
And if your friend said “Let us do it next week,”
Same place, same time, same company, what fun!”
How quick are you at making good excuses
Without shocking or offending everyone?
Here’s how I dealt with such a situation,
I bit my lip, avoided eye contact,
And when it came to next week’s invitation,
Judicious lies are also known as tact!
That could have been my daughter
That could have been my child
She could have been a prostitute
If she’d gone a little wild.
The bits of carved up body
They hauled out of the Aire
That was someone’s daughter
Decomposed and dumped in there.
The people who make judgements
And condemn those on the streets
Should think about the place where
Need and addiction meets.
That place of desperation
Where cravings drive them wild,
That slag, that tart, that hooker
Could have been their child.
So let’s not damn the victims,
Let’s damn the waste of space
Pimps who groom and put them
In such a dreadful place.
And lets condemn their clients
Who pay for sleazy sex,
Who don’t care that they’re exploiting
Addicted human wrecks.
And lets condemn society
That doesn’t care to see
What happens on the sordid streets,
And its harsh brutality.
Those girls were daughters of us all,
They were everybody’s child,
Heedless, needless victims
Of indifference gone wild.
Lynne Joyce 26.05.2010