Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!

Naptown Past, An Endless Melody

Always knew
we were border-line,
just poor white trash
from the near East side of Indy.
always on the move-
strange-how the roaches
also knew, our change-of-address.

The only girl-child,
second of five; not cherished, not loved.
Lived in a world of make-believe
to search for flowers in empty alleyways
with picked nose, knobby knees;
I always tried to please.
Not good enough with a dirty face
that should have had glasses at five.
Saw the world in a perfect fog
til I was nine, when I finally got
those spectacles.
And how I hated those pink,
pink frames that let me see
with perfect clarity what I didn't know.
Just poor white trash,
with my funny-face and four-eyes
all I could do was cry for the nothing I was.
It's true
cause my mommy told me so and
mommies don't lie.

In memories,
that lonely little girl-child
stills wanders up/down Naptown's alleyways.
To hopefully peer through the slatted backyard fences;
listening for a distance melody that plays out of time.

"Oh look! At the pretty flowers!
And the grass, the grass is so green!"

Written by Wordancer


Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge