Fifteen - A Poem

In response to a troubling article on the nightly news when I was just barely older than fifteen. With hope that no one else should ever feel the need to do what this woman did, and that the cycle may be broken.

She stood there—

	fifteen, In a pair of

cut-offs, tube top, and heels. 

She stood there—

	flirting. With blonde curls

tripping down her shoulders.

She turned up—

 	pregnant. Maternity clothes

and charity from ADC.

She worked tables –

 	to give her daughter

food and shelter.

She slaved—

 	going nowhere; growing

tired of her life.

She killed herself—

 	leaving behind her

young, blonde daughter, who

Stood there—

	fifteen.

by: Donna Kay Bryan