December 5, 2007
By Viviana Torres, Pennsauken, NJ

Flashbacks of flashy lights flashing in your view
whizzing by, edging close, then surrounding you
Being tossed by machinery, unreliable
holding on to pieces that just might fall off.

It all comes down to you
and not the loose piece of junk you cling to.
rusting away waiting for the day to snap
You use God as a last resort
dropp and run to your dusty fort
breathing like it was your last
because now your plunging downwards fast.

it's a paradox of vomit and glamour
It's a flashy sound and electric pallor
a sickly thud and gleaming smile
luxurious cars in congested traffic
Brand new shoes in a dusty attic
A fresh meal acrid and vile

Never hit, never abused
never told on, never accused
A few strange words only left me confused
without a bruise to prove,
what I've been through.

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