there is blood on the steps
of the brick house
chalk outline washed away
the blood is here to stay
there is a cloud hanging
over it won’t go away
she’s quiet
they call it solid
in truth
what would she say
it keeps on raining
buckets of trauma
tragedy
after
catastrophe
drama after drama
the song keeps playing
every thing but tears
falling she goes
on because she must
she like a lot of us
it’s called strength
they say she so strong
because where she
been walking no one
else wants to walk along
the river of sad stories
running down the main
street in her life
she holds her head high
trying to be tall enough
to catch a blessing
if he don’t give more
than you can take
ask him what he’s trying
to make
there’s blood on the steps
little inside
next to nothing left
she swallows sorrow
she takes another step
how does she go on
what else would she do
she lives in a brick house
struggle scribbled on the stoop
she climbs over
the blood on the steps
and goes on
When can we talk?
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This is me. Thanks for sharing, thanks for writing. Malaikamalaikakambon@gmail.com
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