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Rated: ASR · Article · Emotional · #662152
Watching a program about women who abandon their infants I was compelled to write this
Outcast


Standing at the edge of a token existence
Life ebbing away, knows no resistance
A stranger in her hometown nicknamed Distance
Acutely aware of her emotional subsistence

She’s lived forever in a suburb called Despair
Lowers her eyes, avoiding the glare
The people she passes, some spit, most simply stare
No strength to fight back, a heart beyond repair

Against her will, her infant did surrender
In return, abhorrence did they render
In a picture-perfect world, ever the offender
Never knew love in all of its splendour

Standing on the corner by the lamppost of hope
Needs to escape, no time to mope
Drowning her sorrows, her being would tope
Pain is her noose, rejection her rope

Longs to be free, to let her spirit dance
It’s only geography, but perhaps live in France
Knows it’s not too late, time to take a stance
Her mind resolved, slips into a trance

He pushes a bill into the clasp of her hand
Speeds off in his car, leaves her lying in the sand
Looking up at the stars, mapping out a distant land
Imagines foreign shores, walking by the strand

The phone box usually provides protection from the rain
Throws in some coins, hears ‘Hello? Hello?’ again
A young man’s voice, she wants to explain
Fear of rejection once more, she has to refrain

Men in her life, one after another
Though rejected by her family, even her brother
Knows there is one pain like no other:
She gave birth but never was a mother
© Copyright 2003 Anne M R Chiles - *published!* (annemrc at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/662152-Outcast