The Girls

Just an odd poem which came to mind.

Tuwa, Tiva, Wawa and Awentia, four girls of the street
The four were all called pretty, and known by all as sweet

Two of them were sisters, but which they would not say
It was hard to tell at night and no none saw them in the day

The house they kept was small, but a room for each they kept
The beds were soft with down, and that was where they slept

Each morning at the dawn, a young boy named Nibaw
Would knock upon their door, he was the only one they saw

He brought them things they ordered, they paid him off in gold
And whether he got more, Nibaw he never told

The girls were all hated, and shunned by all in town
To speak their name was shame, and met with stares and frowns

And yet each night their came, upon their door soft knocks
From men who in the day spoke of them all with shock

Then Nibaw grew up stately, and was no more a boy
And when he found a gold mine, his heart was filled with joy

He went back to the girls’ house, and knocked upon their door
And told them that for gold they need slave themselves no more

Then did the girls exclaim with joy and open their door wide
And when the knocks came in the night, it was Nibaw who replied