Femme Fatale

I’m a femme fatale
my father taught me well
Like Mata Hari my charms are
for my victims to dispel
Like the mistress Laura Bell
the Queen of London Whoredom
one day I may find the Lord but
will not be given swiftly to such boredom
I am too free-thinking for them
My charms ensnare
noble men who dare
to challenge my savoir-faire
To them I shall declare
myself a revolutionary whore
dismissing pimps from their chore
like Grisélidis Réal, adore
every erotic score
Like Sally Standford, unite nations
keeping presidents as patrons
lend my service to their matrons 
so they can keep their aprons
You would think they would agree with me
at least have the grace to thank me 
instead they choose to label me
because they do not have the power
to tax my golden flower

Ghetto Girl Blue

This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


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