Fighter

A hundred bucks I gave her She was not selling herself She asked it for help His man drunk too much With life he paid He has left me a beggar She lamented Starting with the cost of his last rites My days will now be an endless fight A hundred bucks I gave her And closed the door She wasn’t in my thought anymore Till last night in the dim moon’s glow I caught two moving shadows Of her with another man, a stranger. As her laughter rippled the night I nodded. She wouldn’t give up without a fight.