CROWDED OUT
She could never work out just whyShe never felt he he quite belonged
She never fitted in no mater where
She'd be in a crowd , yet be on her own
She'd be talk to, some times but never sneak
She'd at times be needed , but not wonted
She'd go fore a walk , only cats seemed to care
She'd bend down , stroke the cats , they'd purr
She'd talk with cats , they'd talk back , very strange
She must of looked
She died , no one noticed she's goon
She died alone , no one sat beside her holding her hand
She'd no one , no one at all
The local paper reported the coroners verdict
An open verdict was recoded , her life her death
Had been on trial , her life and death lawfully recorded
Some from the crowed read the report
Felt her passing should be market
She'd already been buried , in a poorpeors grave on top
Of two others , no names , just a number on a square
Concrete stone,
The crowded were late in eavrey way.
Ken D Williams ( THE DYSLEXIC POET )
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Poetry by ken d williams
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Written on 2007-12-09 at 18:20
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