Someone Somewhere
Shaky fingers and golden hair,
Walking around with not a care.
Here nor there in nor out,
Imagination resets without a doubt.
One step then two the mirror before her haunts,
Shallow breath jittery body, knowing what she wants.
The last. Yes. This will be it. There will be no more,
She lies, and she knows it as she hobbles out the door.
Just around the block, the old familiar street,
It is only a matter of time that they will meet.
She pulled a wad of bills from the pocket of her jeans,
Not enough. Not enough. But she would do most anything.
Down the alley through the homeless and empty cans,
Looking for her dealer, her known drug man.
A crumpled blanket, ragged and ripped,
Face landing against the cement as she tripped.
She rose wiping blood from her face.
Such a horrible smell coming from this place.
Where was he? They could work out a deal,
Twenty dollars had been all she could beg, borrow, or steal.
Let the blood flow, let her body shiver and shake,
Her first try. Oh, she remembered. Such a huge mistake.
“No, haha. I would never get hooked, I could stop anytime,”
Now years later, she was running out of time.
A thug in the alley he saw money in her fist,
He grabbed it and pushed pulling on her wrist.
Against the wall, she fell hitting her head hard,
The thug took off running luckily no one stood guard.
“Sleep little lady, sleep, close your weary eyes,
Lay your body to rest, tell me no more lies.”
Her crumpled body, in an alley all alone,
She was right. No more. Her addiction and pain were gone.
“Rest ye in peace, now. Rise from the ash and cry,”
The morgue now her shelter time for her to fly.
Death is final. No more second chance, no more tomorrows,
Someone somewhere will cry, someone will feel sorrow.
Someone somewhere will care.
© Cynthia Clark
Tragic...