Women walk the dark alleys of the internet,
Looking for love or money,
Lost in this new age of romance,
Or at the very least,
Hoping to find kindness and security,
Disposable and replaceable,
The numbers seem to shout,
Preordained to live their lives alone,
Taking risk after risk,
Hoping against the odds,
If they hit the jackpot,
The payoff big,
But the numbers continue to grow,
Women,
Abused and abandoned,
With hope dwindling,
Politicians diddle them,
With promises,
Hearts broken,
And bodies fucked,
Forced back down the alleys of the internet,
Frightened and all alone,
Until the next click,
And the next risk,
As age creeps on to the mirror,
In the morning light.
Douglas Polk