Crackhead
it's a beautiful day
and i'm passing through this cursed place:
they are celebrating free lunch at crack land today!
on the dirty and horrible street,
zombies walk around wearing rags.
gathered in small groups,
they burn crack rocks nonstop.
small arguments on street corners,
two bums exchange punches
and nobody cares about the guy knocked out,
moaning and bleeding along the gutter.
a charity institution decided to help,
made food for this horde of desperate.
watching the chaotic line for lunch,
I saw a girl who was once beautiful
and beside her a gigolo smiles toothlessly.
when she notices my insistent gaze
she tries to fix her hair
and she arranges her disheveled clothes.
finally, she throws a can of beer at my car.
I soon realized that this was not an attack:
she just defended the dignity she still had
as if she said: I'm not exactly that!
and your eyes have no right to judge me!
I accelerated and got out of there.
Copyright © Marco Chies | Year Posted 2022
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment