Your Poetry Dot Com - This school year

Ginger's pregnat
Got her G-E-D though
Gonna be a momma
she couldn't even say it aloud
just a smile
a shrug
a point

What ginger?
what?
I'm You know
I'm
pregnant miss

Oh,girl
I say shaking my head
I put my arms around her and want
to grab a fist full of her hair

I want to pull it
shake her by it
Yank her out of this rocking chair, warm bundle daydream
Seventy dollar diaper weeks
Rashes and worry

I want to pull her out of a future that's crmbling around us
and into the presant
where anything is still possible
Anything
Everything

Instead
I pull her into a hug
Shake my head and try

Nothing.

Janice's brother was shot in the hear
She was shopping with her mother
Her brother was at home
Talk says gangs got him
Don't matter
Dead is dead...and Janice?
She walked into blood and brains
His death? Her
Just home from grocery shopping greetings
Her mother's screams

Her blood covered brother
she said
His brain was on the walls, Miss
She says, Miss
We had to move

And I am speachless
At her dry eyed report just
two weeks before Christmas

Speechless.

And what of Sara?
Six senior days left
Sara, almost 18,
Sara
Tortured by her muse
Sara is a cutter

Not a fast ship kind of cutter
Or a small sleigh kind of cutter
Or a butcher meat Kind of cutter

She's not a tailor but
She could be
Cutting her skin into new shapes
Scars to streach tight over her young limbs
She had a box of razor blades in her purse
And another one in her car
And she had cuts
Cuts
Cuts
Up and down
Up her arms
Cuts
She made it to the bathroom
In between classes
And suicidal delusions
She sneaked off and nipped
Herself in the bud

What of Sara?
Didn't you hear?
She was committed
Today.

This poem is Copyright © Jen54