Lady of the Street
Tell me your story,
old Lady of the Street.
You look very lonely,
walking on your feet.
The wrinkles on your face
show sufferings in vain,
hidden tears falling like rain,
in silence, expecting no grace.
Perhaps there was a season
when you used to fly;
for sure that is the reason
that now makes you cry.
Tell me your story,
dear Lady of the Street.
You may have had glory
that nobody perceived.
Please take my hand;
I wish I could mend you,
heal the wounds of your heart,
and help your hope renew.
Elise Beher © ®