Sunrah Jones English: Gloyd November 29, 2010 American Poem
With closed eyes I see her Curly brown waves reach past her shoulders As if begging to touch the warm earth beneath her feet
And her jaw line, Nothing but the mere representation of how she lives chiseled to a firm point, clenched and strong, Giving in to no one.
Her caramel colored arms Crossed in front of her lean frame And her vivid imagination Cross in front of the worlds idea of “ right� Bring war against society
She lives for herself Though she informs no one of this choice As she watches through large eyes
As they jump in after her Into a death pool of pain and self destruction.
As time passes her physical condition changes Her hair grows limp and splits Ends curled in on them selfs Tired of seeing the no longer warm earth she walks on
Her skin, once golden and smooth Wrinkles and cracks, Burnt and bruised at the joints Track marks cover all still tight skin
Her jaw, although still chizzeld and strong Quivers at every opportunity it gets. Her big brown eyes filled with water and desperation For another chance at her life.
How she lives can not be undone She wants help now but She’s drowned all she could have received With her lies
She tries to speak out but I can hear nothing He voice is mute by my own limited imagination
I’ve never heard her speak words before And I never will, I open my eyes Denying my mother silent pleading Just as she denied my own.