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



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

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