In a Trailer Park

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
sometimes we must leave things behind, for beter or for worse

Submitted: March 21, 2009

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Submitted: March 21, 2009

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In a Trailer Park
 
 
The paraphernalia on the cheap vinyl floor,
Was the source of her desolate smile,
And the sunset in her eyes
 
The novels on the table beside her bed,
Were saviours, that allowed her to dream,
And escape static activity
 
The fabric pinned to the walls was used,
To cover prose and past memories
As it caught cigarette smoke
 
She, took pride in her mobile detachment,
And although the walls, the floor and ceiling were chaotic,
The air always smelt of sweet musk
 
The sounds of melancholy acoustics,
And verses stripped of any sign of cliché
Resided within the boundaries
 
This pride however,
Did was not extended to her own body
And the false senses of euphoria always took their toll
 
The pulsing veins, the red glow,
Of arteries accepting,
Their daily treatment
 
The substance diluted in a sea
Of creased sheets and black jeans
Left stains on the sunken mattress
 
The trailer was a disarray of illegal substances,
The door and windows always shut,
The steps insecure and fallow
 
Yet its idle way drew curiosity and,
 Inside the walls it was always warm,
It was tragically beautiful
 
Ones home is a reflection of ones self
 


© Copyright 2019 locky and words. All rights reserved.

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