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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2146047
by Tinker
Rated: E · Poetry · Community · #2146047
I saw someone I used to know. There is no category for social issues or mental illness.
Darryl is Her Name

She sleeps in bushes, lost her pride,
scruffy Shepherd dog by her side.
Day by empty day occupied - her song . . .
words wrung from love denied.

Vapid voices groan in her head,
demons fight characters she's read,
Her cupboard a shopping cart, bed - a crate.
Who will cry when she's dead?
                   ~~Judi Van Gorder

Notes:
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2146047