This broken road, where the drunks drive, taking themselves to their poisonous source, at only seven o'clock.
Those two girls, Avery, Missy, had grown up on this broken road, grown up together.
Seven running down this broken road. Stolen penny sweets in their pockets,
mama wanted a skinny daughter.
Now fourteen smoking like chimneys, mama forgot to love her daughter.
The sky's fading, seven o'clock. Those two girls should go home before the drunks emerge, the local priest fucked half them drunks, at only seven.
Those two girls stayed smoking like chimneys, step-daddy waiting to hit his stepdaughter.
Those two girls stayed on that broken road, mama was selling her body back home.
This broken road lead to two broken homes.
This broken road was the closest place to safety, those two girls had.
That broken road and the smoke in their lungs were the only things those to girls had.
Standing on this broken road, two broken girls not wanting to go back to their two broken homes.
YOU ARE READING
This Broken Road
PoesíaI have been on an endless mission to unravel the secrets of the writing world. In other words, I went to a class, talk, meeting ish thing with Sarah Crossan and talked to us about writing linked poems ( that's not what she called them but...). So I...
