The Price of My Strut

By Trina Ricketts

The smoky haze
The lights on the stage
This is so much better
Than minimum wage.

Some people judge
Condemn and begrudge
I try to explain
But they’re perceptions don’t budge.

Exploited, they say
Dirty and depraved
Worthless and wasted
Until I am saved.

But save me from what?
From shaking my butt?
From profiting for
The price of my strut?

I’m losing my patience
Fabricating nonsense
Lying to hide
The source of my pay cheques.

I’m not degraded
Poverty is overrated
The stigma is what
Makes me so fucking jaded.

And I defend my right
To get paid every night
My own little crusade
Against all that’s uptight.

So I dance to the beat
Bat my eyes and be sweet
Pay my rent and buy food
For my children to eat.

And I do it with pride
Show my assets far and wide
And I tell the naked truth
Cause I’ve nothing to hide.

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