JJ (27th July 1959 / Aberdare)

Everyday Existance

The child,
Siting hunched in the corner,
Cold and hungry,
Watches the heaving bodies on the make-shift bed.

Although he sees this act
At least twice a day
Sex has no meaning to him,
- It's just mummy making money!

Maybe this time -
She'll have enough money left to feed him.
Maybe this time!

Suddenly he wakes
From a cold-induced sleep
To find a loaf of bread on the floor.
Gorging himself greedily
Something shiny catches his eye
From his mother's bed.

Just for a second he sees the needle
Before it plunges home.

He smiles
Relief fills his emaciated form,
No beatings tonight he thinks.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 2 votes ) 3

Comments (3)

I cannot find the words to express how I feel about the content of this poem, Jayne. I can only say that you've written extremely well about something which goes on all too often behind closed doors and which taints the lives of all who bear witness to it. You've caught it perfectly. Love, Fran xx
very dark and tragic, and I'm sure terribly true in the world.
ya survivors, there every were darling nice poem dave xxx