Wild Dahlia, the name of the bar,
The owner was Deborah,
Below her left breast there was a scar,
She’d let you see if you whispered sweet,
Thought that could only get you so far.
The drinks were cheap,
The company cost.
The men were sheep,
You could hear them baa.
Such was the cost of being barkeep.
I tried my luck.
The others they laughed.
Miss Deborah, my heart you have struck,
I’d like your company,
Not just for a fuck.
She smiled so sweet,
My heart did melt.
Words so pretty for a peak at my teat.
But it is for more what beats underneath.
So my heart you wish to meet?
Wild Dahlia’s Deborah delight
Sweet words her weakness be
Let me take her away for a night
No barkeep or business thoughts
Let me see her scar and more in soft candlelight
This is for a prompt for BattleBorn Poetry: This week’s #BornBattleReady prompt word is: WILD DAHLIA
