This is the poem that Anna Travers read at the start of her speech on the ‘”What’s wrong with prostitution?” panel at Feminism in London 2009.
What’s wrong with prostitution?
Where would one start, ….
I guess I should answer that straight from the heart,
It’s a world full of violence abuse and hate,
The long term effect of which,
Seldom seen til it’s too late,
A world in which people are stripped of their worth
A world of a young mothers giving cold birth,
A world of detachment, denial and front,
A world in which the woman bears the brunt
A service for men but …at what real cost,
The death of herself or the friend that she lost,
Pulled, dragged and moulded for the sake of another
Stood on the street as somebody’s mother
A fact that isn’t important in their moment of need
A punter with hunger, who ….needs to satisfy his greed,
That was then but this is now,
Surely I should have “gotton” over it somehow,
But of that I don’t seem to be able,
the damage is already done,
As I stand a million miles away
Detached from my only son,
He lacked self esteem and he lacked self pride
But his embarrassment he had learnt to hide
He acted all big to stop them from mocking
And now he’s inside under ……constant lock in
He wanted to be more the son of a whore
And now he sits behind a cell door
Trying to stay strong from in his cage
A young man full of hatred confusion and rage,
Or what about my daughter who thought I was great
Who followed my footsteps into a terrible fate?
Into a strip club …….men waiting to pounce
For her feelings the predators not caring an ounce
My beautiful princess, my true desire
Dancing under lights for men to admire
Taking care of their individual needs
In a world of filth, mayhem and sleaze
What’s wrong with prostitution is becoming very clear
Only my story doesn’t quiet finished here
What about my youngest little lady
My one and only well planned baby
The one who was gunna put it all right
When I gave up being a so called lady of the night
I raise her alone because I woke up to see
That my pimp stroke kids dad wasn’t all he was cracked up to be
A simple control freak that had lots of demands
Who if I didn’t obey would be free with his hands
I gave away my life for the want of another
And now I try to pick up the pieces as a single mother,
I don’t know how long I have left to put things right
As I was damaged during all life of turmoil and fight
I have a bomb in my head that is ticking away
An aneurysm that could take my life any day
The years of strangulation have come to a head
And the end result could mean being disabled or dead
Years of standing on street corners wasting my life
No rewards as I now live on the edge of a knife
The ripple effect of this lifestyle ongoing
And I walked right into it with no way of knowing
These are just a few facts I wanted to share
I hope that you felt them as I laid them bare
So now you know what’s wrong with prostitution
Let’s get together as women and find a solution
Anna Travers October 2009