PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Momma dropped us off

and maybe with a few tears in her eye,

she kissed us on the cheeks with Revlon painted lips

and said, "Girls I guess this is goodbye".



I was five, no maybe six just then.

Gawky, thin legged like chickens, my sisters and I,

had warts around our mouths, greasy hair, and layers of dirt.

We hugged her back but didn't cry.



The people at the home saw and took pity,

gave her a bus ticket, five dollars and sent her on her way.

I think she breathed a sigh of relief as she left

and entered the prospect of a fresh day.



She strolled on down to the bus station, five dollars to her name,

and sold us for a bus ticket and a vogue magazine.

Went on home to a dirty husband,

returned to the trailer park as Queen.



But Momma saved us from the hunger and the pain

of naughty touching and the periwinkle bruise.

Isn't that what a good Mother would do?

Go on back to her lover and the booze?



Although, she was compensated rather well in the end.