Next Hit Poem by david gerardino
Next Hit
she was smoking crack with a baby in her belly,
she was laughing and crying, waiting for that next
hit.
she use to be beautiful, now she looks like a dreadful
nightmare, and that nightmare stinks...
you can hear that baby punching,
you can hear that baby wailing,
you can see that baby fighting for its life.
yea, even a fetus has the right.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
NEWS AT TEN,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, this is why i try not to turn the news on..
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 10:00:28 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Poignant narrative but kudos for d super description