her hair, a mess.
her teeth, cavity filled.
her attitude, rotten.
her habits, unruly.
her brain, still growing.
her bones, still fragile.
her mom, an alcoholic in denial.
her dad, an honest man.
her siblings, far and wide.
the lies she gets fed from
her mother will soon be the
only thing this four year old
knows.
her feelings, her confusion,
her frustration, her constant heartache.
if only God had
made this different.
YOU ARE READING
Raspberries & Roses
Poetryeven the most beautiful things have thorns my poems sorry they suck
