When I was young and had no sense
In far-off Mandalay
I lost my heart to a Burmese girl
As lovely as the day.
Her skin was gold, her hair was jet,
Her teeth were ivory;
I said, "for twenty silver pieces,
Maiden, sleep with me".
She looked at me, so pure, so sad,
The loveliest thing alive,
And in her lisping, virgin voice,
Stood out for twenty-five.
Ironic Poem About Prostitution
George Orwell (eric Arthur Blair)
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Poem topics: girl, hair, heart, lost, sad, silver, sleep, voice, young, sense, skin, pure, gold, Valentine's Day, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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