the father of the child is dead...
the mother of the infant lives in her past...drinks away what never would be
enough to last.....
her face holds more tears than the sky holds rain drops.....each drip
another slip ..deeper in side where she gets away with being like this....
some say shes to understanding to easy to pass her illness on the way life
turned on her.....but baby dosnt know....baby loves mommy more than mommy
will ever know....
people say shes sick.....mother of a child just unfit....
her wine is salty and her wrobe hangs open.....her eyes look in...and the
baby still has never spoken....
she pats her back and burps the baby.....shes drunk yes....but hes
gone....hes gone shes not wrong....
her mascara melestes her lids.....she forgot to pay last months
rent.....people says shes dirty white trash and sells her body to make the
money....but baby smiles when she flows by....the hole world asks why....the
hole world wants mommy to die......but baby never knew the way she
appered.....when she killed her self she only looked in the mirror.....
babys un shaped un judged..
all alone....
wondering when her mommy will be home...
 
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