November rains wash the dreams down the drain
And a rainbow lies bleeding in the street
Where it gets splashed by car tyres to the edge
And on to red shoes on a young girl's feet.

'Damn! ' she says 'Diesel always stains like hell,
Yeah, but no-one will notice in the dark.'
And as a limousine pulls to a halt
It's time for her to step up to the mark.

Seventeen years or a hundred and two
A thousand years from her eyes to her soul.
A window rolls down, a bargain is struck
This one looks loaded, she feels on a roll..

The radio hawks and spits in the night
The lights on the squad car paint the crowd
Gazing at a broken bargain - red shoes,
And beyond them, a green tarpaulin shroud.

Martin O'Neill

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/seventeen-and-a-hundred-years-old/