Love for Sale
By cinefan01
She plucks the moneyFrom the bedside table, He was her father's age.This thought caused her bodyTo shudder in disgust.Tears cloud her eyesAs she walks silentlyTo the door.She walks the streetsBarefootBecause high heelsCause her feet so much pain.Long, gangly arms and legs,Small, pouty lips,Short, uneven black hair,Small, girlish breasts,Pretty, white teeth.A man approaches her And snatches 200 of her 300 dollars,Leaving just enough for rent And one meal.She walks past a man intoxicatedAnd a woman is being beatenIn a room as she passes. She sobs as she opensher door,Upon seeing the picture of her family.Her mother smiling downAt the laughing faces of her Sisters and brothers, Her father beaming at hisLoving family.She sighs as she walks past.Two hours past.She awakens in the darknessOf her tiny room.She hits the streetsIn her heels,Blisters on the verge of bursting,Straining against the Walls of their prison.She is 14 and a runaway.She is surviving for now.Look,There she is.One day closer to death,As she stepsInto the car of a stranger.How should I improve on my descriptions? Am I being to vague? Should the poem be shorter? Should I limit my descriptions? Written November 26th, 2001 © on Nov 26 2001 02:05 PM PST 0 • 9
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"She plucks the moneyFrom the bedside table, He was her father's age.This thought caused her bodyTo shudder in disgust.Tears cloud her eyesAs she walks silentlyTo the door.She walks the streetsBarefootBecause high heelsCause her feet so much pain.Long, gangly arms and legs,Small, pouty lips,Short, uneven black hair,Small, girlish breasts,Pretty, white teeth.A man approaches her And snatches 200 of her 300 dollars,Leaving just enough for rent And one meal.She walks past a man intoxicatedAnd a woman is being beatenIn a room as she passes. She sobs as she opensher door,Upon seeing the picture of her family.Her mother smiling downAt the laughing faces of her Sisters and brothers, Her father beaming at hisLoving family.She sighs as she walks past.Two hours past.She awakens in the darknessOf her tiny room.She hits the streetsIn her heels,Blisters on the verge of bursting,Straining against the Walls of their prison.She is 14 and a runaway.She is surviving for now.Look,There she is.One day closer to death,As she stepsInto the car of a stranger.How should I improve on my descriptions? Am I being to vague? Should the poem be shorter? Should I limit my descriptions?..."