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At the Cross Roads

Curtis Forsythe Avatar  Send Soup Mail  Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled At the Cross Roads which was written by poet Curtis Forsythe. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The poem is below.


At the Cross Roads

While stopped for some fast food and self-serve gas-
I saw her watching me watching her.
She was young- her late teens I guessed.  
I did not know her, but I had known other girls-
others of similar circumstances- 
at least I assumed so. 
All dressed up and no place to go described her-
sitting on a battered suitcase at the cross-roads
on that hot July afternoon-
waiting for someone, anyone, to offer her a ride-
to somewhere, anywhere- it’s not like it mattered where-
as long as it took her far away from this place,
the only place she had ever known- 
a share cropped farm- a red dust hell hole-
an unfortunate place of birth.

Times had not always been so bad-
times not remembered anyway. 
All she had now was in that suitcase,
and her Sunday best she was still wearing-
that she had worn for the funeral-. 
the final period to this existence.
No fond memories of childhood remained- 
there were none.
It seemed that she had never really been a child at all-
always grownup worries and responsibilities.
But things would be different now- 
she would escape this place-
she had dreams to fulfill- new memories to make.

I would offer her a lift- I was too late.
A big black limo approached- 
stopping- the door opened-
I watched as she hesitated- the choice was hers-
a brief discussion with- I could not see who-
finally getting in- leaving the suitcase in the dust-
heading to who knows where. 
I feared for her-
for her dreams- her new memories-
her very existence-
I felt deeply saddened for her.
Would anyone else ever again?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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