A Hen To Men

A hen to men Mama's driving along to Seattle looking for her runaway daughter, when out of the blue she hears the radio host reading a poem written by PP that's fast becoming a hit on social media ... life's delves not twelve ...for stave her grave. Please Paris hear me, mamas on her way. Mama then stares off to the other side of midnight, praying that dawn is much better. She runs From guns and men's playpens their lies and highs their slugs and drugs resist their twist she lives survives hell bells bad spells awaken forsaken she stands her land of worth on earth a hen to men she squawks the walk she's tall to fall life's delves not twelve so young and sprung feathers weathered for stave her grave Signed, Paris Pachecho connie pachecho 12/29/16