Don’t look at me plainly
As is I am a blotched cloth
I may have impurities
But they have their stories
You know whom I am from?
From a **** who onces kissed a man
Who was jailed for hundred months
I never had a read on a book
All I know is to sing and cook
I feed myself with my flesh
No one can ever wash this blemishness
Now tell me who am I again
A girl who sells herself in bargain?
One who consumes herself to gain