Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Back Alley Stray

She's a back alley stray
Kicked too many times.
She was fed every day
Broken promises and rhymes.
She no longer trusts that love would stay.

When I reach out to her
She instinctively flinches.
Afraid of what will reoccur,
Her right fist clinches.
She's not comforted by anything I say.