Hey Girl…..
it bothers me
that you look like
anyone’s daughter;
You could play soccer
with the high school team,
or sing in the choir.
You could
work at the library,
or the coffee shop,
You could be someone’s daughter?
You are not twitchy, or addicted
or malnourished.
You do look ashamed,
Rightly so.
“Hey driver…..
Don’t give her a five as you pass by!”
She will continue to stand by the intersection,
holding her sign,
inflaming my moral joints,
She pretends to know her worth.
Her mother must be dead.
What girl would stand curbside
and make sheepish eyes?
When I roll down my window,
unexpectedly, I yell to her
“you must be so humiliated?”
Hoping she will heed my mothering.
I am so angry I could yell
“YO BITCH, FIND YOUR WORTH!”
but I don’t
I just silently pray……
gesturing like the British Royals with a hand,
curly Q-ing upwards to the sky,
“Hey Girl, stop choosing the lazy way out.”
I vow never
to take my dignity
for granted;
and tomorrow,
to mind my own business.