By Anita Mondragon

Years ago, I read an article in the Rocky Mountain News.  A journalist had interviewed several prostitutes here, on the streets of Denver.

I wrote down several of the questions asked, and the answers given.  Here are the two that stuck out in my mind:

Q:  “What is the answer for you?”

A:  “I don’t know…I think its death.”

Q:  “Living this way must be very difficult for you…what is the hardest part?”

A:  “The hardest part…is having to be me when it’s all done…”

After reading the article, my heart was broken, and I sat down and wrote this poem.  It is graphic, but my intent is not to offend…but paint a real picture of the hearts of these women caught up in this; for they weren’t always prostitutes. -anita


She stands before the mirror – all dressed up…fit to kill…

Looking like a million bucks…but this reflection isn’t real!

What she feels, is diluted, and watered down…like some cheap drink;

But what a beauty she appears to be, wrapped up in all that mink!


If for just one day, I could stand behind those empty eyes of hers…

I’d feel her desperation…and live her daily curse.

While being bound by despair’s grip…

I’d hear these words escape my lips:

“I wish I could wash away all these years, of living like a whore…

Being ravaged by this relentless hounding…with this hunger for something more!

If I could ask someone to hold me…wouldn’t that be trust?  

But when I ask, they only look at me…their eyes so full of lust.

If I could find forgiveness, with just a single prayer…wouldn’t that be love?

But self-righteous folks look down their nose, and say… 

‘That is a word, you’ll NEVER know anything of’.

I’ve given love, night after night, when I’ve had none to give; 

And I knew this was not the life I was supposed to live…

But I thought, there’s a bright day in my future…with smiles, instead of tears…

Life will soon make sense…maybe tomorrow…but those days turned into years!

Now, here I am…still on the street…still turning tricks for dollars.  

My body takes and fakes it…while in my mind, I holler… 

‘Someone…let me out of here!  I’m smothering…and I’m dying!!’

But the John on top of me…he only sees me smiling. 

 I’ve learned to fake it well, after all these many years.

Nobody knows…inside myself…I’m holding back the tears! 

 Who wants me now?  I’m all used up…my beauty’s gone…forever!  

Will I ever be loved in this dreary life? NO!  ….I think not…NEVER!

But in my dreams, HE comes to me…I’ve seen HIM…many times.  

I know HIM not…but HE knows me, and HE bids me come and dine.

‘Come and dine’…HE says to me… ‘Come and dine!  

You can feast at MY table…anytime!  

I’ve fed multitudes, and I’ve turned water into wine…

If you’re hungry…come to me!  Come and dine!’ 

HE surely knows me… but I think HE’D hold me if I asked;  

I think HE would forgive me…for my present, and my past…

I’ve had many lovers…but HE’S the lover of my soul; 

Though all these years upon the street, have taken a great toll!

I’ve heard HIS voice in dreams before, 

As HE quietly stood, and knocked on my heart’s door.  

Always a gentleman…not like the others…

HE does want to hold me…but like a Father…or a Brother.  

HE wants to take my hunger away…

This insatiable hunger, I feel every day!

I look in the mirror…and I HATE what I see!  

I just can’t figure out, what HE sees in me!  

Why does HE pursue me, with a love so pure and kind?  

I think…and I ponder…but it’s unimaginable to my mind…

I cannot comprehend, a love, so pure, and true…

That loves me…in spite of everything…no matter what I do!

Who IS this stranger in my dreams, who speaks to me each night?  ….

Who wraps me in his loving arms, and holds me ’till morns’ light?

I wish the morning wouldn’t come, for I’ll be back out on the street.  

I’d like to stay within HIS arms…and HIS sweet name repeat…

But, who HE is…I do not know!  I wish I could find out!  

For when HE speaks, HE gives me peace…and banishes my doubt!


I come back to reality, and watch her walk away.  

I’ve felt her pain, and cried her tears…momentarily lived her life, that’s in total disarray.

The difference is…I KNOW HIS name…this man, she dreams about.  

HE came to me, when I was lost, and somehow brought me out!

I walked in darkness…just like her, ’till someone came and said…

“Come meet my friend named Jesus Christ…HE is the Living Bread!  

He’ll feed you ’till you want no more…He’ll stand right by your side!  

He’ll never leave you…nor forsake you…He’ll be you constant guide!”


For but a moment, I remembered that dark road I once had trod; 

Before I heard the name of Jesus…and met the Son of God…

I raised my eyes and looked for her, and caught her in my sight.

I ran, and touched her on the arm, and said, “I know your plight! 

Come…sit with me, and talk awhile.  Let me introduce you to my friend! 

HE’S the man within your dreams…your heart HE wants to mend!”

So we sat down and talked awhile, then… a smile crossed her weary face,

As my DEAREST FRIEND named JESUS, all her heartaches did erase!

  Anita Mondragon 2005

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