She didn't know
How she found herself there
Crumbling over the sharp cement
Scrambling across
The road
Her eyes intent
On the big green sign
She must have fallen
At least a few hundred times
The thought
Of being away
Forcing her on
She entered
The station
In her ragged, tattered dress
With cracked, bleeding lips
And fingers
That groped around
In her pocket
For the few dollars
That would save her life
She fished it out
Holding it out
To the saddened, wizened gaze
Of the short, old man
Who sat, punching computer keys
He handed a gleaming white slip
Back to her
And she gazed at it
So much
And so long
They had to pull her
To the other side
And let the other passengers
Buy their tickets
The large, smoke spitting body
Pulled out of the station
Roaring on
Steaming hard
In fiery puffs
Away
Away
Away from the memories
She thought
She could escape
YOU ARE READING
The Girl
PoetryShe was beautiful. She was happy. She was a bright prism of colors. She was a sizzling firework of surprises. She lit up everything she walked past, with her bright, dimpled smile. They thought she was perfect. Until her world came cra...