Lucy Baby II
II.
People used to ask me
Why I left.
Why was I living on the side of the road
Always so hungry
With my belly bulging
Underneath the pink tee shirt
I always wore?
Why was I sleeping
In a refrigerator box outside
The Mobil station
On that corner
By the factory that makes
The pretty shirts and skirts
And shorts
That I can’t buy?
But then,
People stopped asking
And just stared.
Those stares
Of sympathy
And disgust.
I would watch
Mothers and their small children
Dressed in denim jumpers
And light up sneakers
And tiny little brown cargo pants.
The boys and girls
That seemed to have everything
They could ever need.
I would look at my stomach
My hands resting on the outline
Underneath that pink shirt
Soaked in sweat
And dirt and grime
And I would wish
That my baby could have
Everything
Too.
- rebecca_v's blog
- Login or register to post comments
