The scarlet lady stands under the slanted lamplight
Waiting for the predators of the night
She carries a handbag of inexpressible sorrow
And maybe a handgun, and may be tomorrow
She will find some way to waste the cursed affliction;
Avoid eviction; satiate the haunted hunted addiction.
Get a job ; maybe in a restaurant
Get therapy; but for now she’s vigilant.
The cars cruise by the kerb, and a punter slows down;
One sicko tonight, dressed in his partner’s bridal gown.
Sometimes she wants to use that gun and somehow blast away the sickness
Lance the abscess; rid her soul of this wretchedness.
For now she hopes again and despises herself as the car draws near;
And her heart is full of fear; but the hardened eye will allow no tear;
Bracing herself she sees her child in a ragged tent, ravished with Malaria
In her war torn village in Somalia
Were death to take him from her now
She could in peace avow;
To end this double death of her tortured soul
And go gladly into that dark pit , of deaths black hole
But each week she saves , and sends some money home,
And prays whispering at that celestial dome,
That she can somehow have him here,
That’s all that matters now; to have him near.
© Copyright 2016 donkylemore. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Commercial Fiction
Poem / Flash Fiction
Essay / Memoir
Paste the link to picture in the entry below:
Paste the link to Youtube video in the following entry:
Cannot annotate a non-flat selection. Make sure your selection starts and ends within the same node.
An annotation cannot contain another annotation.
There was an error uploading your file.