As an inoccent girl I sat
Crouching behind the maroon colored sofa
Listening to their angry words echo
Off the walls of that broken home
Stuck inside
A stereotypical cliche
Of a family no more
I'm not going to lie
I held that wooden crucifix between my tiny fingers
And prayed to God that he wouldn't hit her
Then somewhere along the interestates and highways
Railroad tracks
Friends lost and days past
I grew up
As we all did
And as we all learned
The trials and tribulations
Of our daily living
Our daily bread
(which you should thank the lord for by the way)
This time as a young woman I wept
On my knees in desperation
Feeling the effects take a toll
On my broken body of systems
Stuck within
The deadly grasp of the Coca plant
That grows upon His devine earth
I'm not going to lie
I held that 14 karat crucifix between my tainted fingers
And I prayed to God for cocaine
Copyright 2004 WhiteHorse
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/7929/53136 on Sunday July 06th, 2008 08:28 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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