Once again there seems to be subtle undertones about prostitutes somehow being 'less important' when they get murdered than other people in society. Or that because of the job they have they somehow can expect what happens to them.

Why does the fact they are prostitutes always have to be slipped into sentences when they are mentioned? When you read of other murder cases the occupations of the victims seldom get such regular mention.

I just read Fear returns to the Ripper's streets . The BBC's coverage has, on the whole, appeared to be quite sympathetic and talks of the women in terms of titles or Christian names. But even they let it slip at times. In the above article they say "Back then, it took six years to find and convict Peter Sutcliffe, the Yorkshire Ripper, for killing 13 women - mainly prostitutes - and trying to murder seven more. ". But why is it so necessary to that sentence to make yet another mention of being prostitutes? They do not mention the occupations of those who were not. Why is this I wonder.

When they report loss of life in a war zone they never say "Three men - mostly soldiers - were killed today by a landmine.

Yet the article above is also so touching and sympathetic as such. One of the most touching comments is "At the moment, support for women is all about vaginas and veins - not the heart and soul. ". Indeed they do have hearts and souls.

Is it me or does anyone else get annoyed at the way these women are somehow put across as being less deserving of sympathy because of the work they do?

I remember when the women were killed in Ipswich. Reg Meuross wrote a beautiful song after he heard one of the girls mothers talking on a radio show. It really puts things into perspective. The words are below. If you get a chance to hear it then please give it a hearing

mp

Until I hold you close again

It's time to put your red dress on,
and see how beautiful you are
Now the night is almost gone,
you will be my falling star

As the shadows turn to gold,
And our tears to fallen rain,
Leave a promise I can hold,
Until I hold you once again

I watch you brush your yellow hair
Run your fingers through the sun
My body aches to touch you there
But time is short and you must run

I know the others see your face
The eyes and mouth that I adore
And wish that they could take my place
Until I hold you close once more

A Mother's arms are safe and sure
A Mother's arms are soft and pure
This kind of love no man will know
I'll still love you when you go

I know you've got your work to do
There's broken hearts for you to mend
I know the pain that men go through
And those who only need a friend

And when you close that hotel door
What happens there I'll never ask
I will only miss you more
Until I hold you close at last