Tuesday, August 3rd
Tuesday, August 3rd,
this time reality was heard,
the war on drugs,
turned out to be a disgrace,
the young girl stifles a cry,
then falls into her mother’s embrace,
her brother was dead,
shot five times,
twice in the head,
reality burns,
the woman takes the child
in her arms and turns,
facing the dining room wall,
the detective watched the woman fight
a wave of emotions,
as her reality would break down to a stall,
at the end of her tunnel there was no light,
no light at all,
her body tensing,
her eyes closing tight,
everything was bleak,
empty, hollow,
the mother turned back toward the detective,
and she tried to speak,
but her words were lost in a hard swallow,
she knew what he knew,
as her young daughter cried,
the detective wasn’t there to tell her
that her son died,
as the crying girl suddenly fell to her feet,
and the mother was arrested
for making her son sell drugs on the street.
© 2011 Frank Atanacio