She Moves Among Men

«Speak to me gently before we begin»
She pleads but they laugh and pull her down
And after they’ve used her briefly and roughly
They leave her to face the dawn alone
When they have gone she moves on her side
Thinks of the men that with her have lain
And none of them gave her a kind-worded loving
And after they’d done not one of them stayed
Once she was wary, chose but a few
To roll in her arms at the end of the day
But the flower so proud begins now to wither
That any may pluck at the petals so gay
Alone in the night she muses a while
And thinks of the days and how they will pass
She cries for the lonely years that awaiting
Till death takes her hand and weds her at last
Down in the barroom she moves among men
Who watch her and touch her whenever they can
And she notices hands and mouths as they drink
And over the tankards the eyes of each man
Speak to me gently before we begin…