Lost...

She dresses for his eyes alone
He's thirty, rich and handsome
Well-heeled and drives the latest steed
Right-side of tracks, is where he's from

All eyes upon her entrance
She walks the runway of the street
“ I am the queen of drama;
the best you'll ever meet”

Her entourage, smile or sneer,
depending on her mood
She waves her hand; as if to steer
through the crowd of crude

An old man's gaze, the poor-man's drool;
she ain't having none of that
Don't look at her, don't think you're cool
unless your wallet's fat

One night of careless pleasure
She forgot about the measures
Drunk and drugged, she was
She fucked him, just because

Now, T.V. is her company
Girl-friends gone to party down
Her prince has come and gone
The baby cries too much

Momma said; there would be days like this...