Natasha

She totters on new heels
along the Kings Road
young slender delicate
hair freshly blown
expensive apparel
the most costly of scents
in return for affection
she expects only the best.

Men leer, some sneer
while sisters condemn
the mercenary path
she chose over them
a trophy, a plaything
a rich old mans pet
but few recognise
the enduring strength.

For she is tough, hard
tempered like steel
after battling through Europe
from Chisinau to Chelsea
she mourns not her innocence
is no longer afraid
and celebrates survival
with a victory parade.