Poet Land
What’s a kid like thatdoing out in the cold
North of nothing andnot too well-dressed
How did she get herselfinto her mess
too bad how we all got our own distressyetattention is fleetingand memory is short
Nobody knowsand no one is askingthe cars flying byhow fast they’re passing
busy with her own businessshe’s not theirsfor the tasking
how much colder is the worldif everyone seesyet nobody cares
we’ve all got plenty of troublesnone for the asking…
But what’s a kid like herdoing out in the cold
listlessly, aimlesslysleep walkingwhere is her homeIs it here, is it there
and yet without hesitationthe foot hits the acceleratorand you turn up the heat
quickly forgettingthe girl on the street.
– Melissa Howells