The Stranger (Part 1)
She walks along the darkened street,
Alone, scared, cold and weak.
Her mascara is running and her hair is wild;
She feels like a lost, lonely child.
Tears are streaming down her face,
As she holds her broken strap, lined with lace.
Her shirt is torn, but she doesn't care,
She just knew she had to get out of there.
She left her purse, her coat, her shoes,
She wishes she could have seen the clues.
But all she wanted was to be loved,
And now all that's left is a mystery to be solved.
Who was that stranger she fell so hard for?
Why did he continue when she cried "no more"?
Now all she feels is hurt and shame;
She doesn't even know his name.
Now she wanders alone on the quiet street,
She can't even feel the rocks cutting her feet.
The air is still but her heart beats fast;
She doesn't even notice the streets she passed.
All she can think about is that stranger and his face,
The way he asked her to come back to his place.
She should have said "no" and walked away,
But she never thought he would treat her this way.
She doesn't even know what street she's on,
She trips and falls on someone's lawn.
A car pulls up and stops beside her,
She notices it's a female driver.
This stranger's concerned for her and reaches out,
But she pulls away, still in doubt.
She cringes at the woman's touch;
She's afraid to get hurt; it's just too much.
She can't catch her breath and she starts crying again,
The stranger tries but can't soothe her pain.
She holds her a bit to calm her down,
Then offers to drive her into town.
It's 3 a.m. and there's not a soul around,
All she can do is stare at the ground.
The stranger takes her to a police station;
There, at least, she'll find some protection.
Copyright © Kayla Lapointe | Year Posted 2007
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