Lamest Poem I Have Ever Written

A big vacant body,
an empty, tearful stare,
for sale on the corner ,
she comes tressed up or bare.

lets look at her price tag,
it seems she comes for free,
all you really need?
pretend that you like me.

She knows they may be lying,
but still she takes the chance,
maybe they like her,
not whats in her pants.

For sale on the corner,
with her empty tearful stare,
she'll still keep taking chances,
if they still pretend to care.