The Prostitutes Haven
15th July, 2015 Writers
I remember my street 
Down the road was a coven 
Dragonnaire was their was haven 
A place, 
Where all whores looked forward to 
They walked around 
With long eye lashes and painted nails 
Different colors of rainbow on their bodies 

A place where dreams were torn
Where priorities were misplaced 
A haven where lives were wasted
We got to watch young old ladies 
Walk around naked 
Flaunting their dead assets 
Fallen breasts and sagging buttocks
Roaming about, 
For the pleasure of us viewers 
Anybody could go in and lay with them 
Even a dog with a coin. 
They pulled their pants 
Smell it, wash it 
And spread it outside 
For the pleasure of us viewers still

I remember the men in big cars 
Who wear expensive kaftans
Who would park streets away, trek down to this haven 
 look around 
Cover their faces and run inside

Did their business and came out 
Looking exhausted 
Then the fights would begin 
Who the man winked at 
Who he serviced most 
Who felt his presence the most
Who wanted him next
All these 
To the view of the general public 
We would run from our houses
Down to the street 
To watch clothes get torn 
Bald heads getting exposed 
We would laugh at their stories 
Of whose manhood was too big 
Or too tiny 
Of how they came to Dragonnaire 
Of how poverty dragged them down 
Of how they got raped by their uncles 
And they gave up 
Before you know it 
The fight would be over before it began

beautiful girls wasting away 
Talented ones rotten and spoilt 
I tell you it’s pissing off! 
But now, 
With girls becoming women 
With prostitution becoming a day old job
With girls having big dreams
Is Dragonnaire even a place?

Kwara, Nigeria
  • Dragonnaire, A lair down my street A rich wasteland A haven for prostitutes

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