We sold her on the streets
In the bars,
On television.
We sold her for a car.
We sold her when she was young
And pretty.
She twirled in a blue, floral skirt,
Her face alight with all
The life she was.
She didn’t get a chance.
We were enchanted
By this treat that men would buy –
A moment in time
For a dime.

She is our jewel in the sky,
That we have lain to waste
For tastes that shouldn’t
Have been ours,
Can she forgive us – these
Children of a teenage bride –
Her children.