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Where Is She?
March 4, 2011
She was a good girl.
She could laugh,
She could sing,
She could dance.
She could do all of that without a college guy in her pants.
She held her breath when she passed the smokers.
Saying she'd never do as they did.
She'd tell me how she hated liars.
And posers.
And the druggies in her school.
But that was before someone broke her.
Now she's sixteen.
Now she's a sinner.
Now she's a smoker.
Now I'm the one who holds my breath around her.
© Maria B., Boston, MA
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JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 5 comments.
twisted2013 GOLD said...
on Apr. 8 2011 at 8:47 pm
omg i love it sounds like what happened to me and a very close friend ov myn
thezebrasgray PLATINUM said...
on Apr. 8 2011 at 3:43 pm
i know too many people that this poem relates to too well...
xXFadedFlowerXx GOLD said...
on Apr. 6 2011 at 5:18 pm
I love this poem, i can definitely relate to it in many aspects.
