I would tote a
Glok
Smoke cigarettes
and forget that I was a
Woman
I would allow the
troubles of the world to
Transform me into
a Creature
of little or no
Consideration of my
Community
I would rebel
from acknowledging the swollen
bags under the restless eyes
of a woman
Who was once so
Beautiful
But the same troubles
had effected her tremendously
Leaving her homeless
and hopeless
I would pass her by
Not even wishing her well
As she throws all of her dreams
to drown in the neighborhood
Wishing well
I would walk right by
leaving her with the story to tell
Knowing that no one
would listen
They aren't even trying to see
what led her down this path of
Self inflicted misery
If it wasn't for poetry
I would neglect to see that
That woman
Someday
could be
Me