Trash With Class


she matured with class
but what she did in private
was pure trash
she held her head high
her joy… making boys and men
yell and scream… and finally sigh

Pleasuring others was the goal
performing these acts
she’d sell her soul
photos and film would not lie
she loved the attention
but her marriage died

children couldn’t believe
what they’d see
that was their mom
on Internet TV
lost respect for themselves and others
questioning what happened to their mother

dad couldn’t handle any more
finally he’d leave
all he felt was numb and deceived
for awhile mom sat
high on her throne
but eventually… she’d end up alone
the attention she needed
would quickly fade
lying in the bed she had made

At first her body passed the test
wore out… just to many men
now she was just a mess
no one could remember
how she used to be
a slut… a whore…
is all they’d see

her worse fears would come true
loneliness… it grew and grew
she sunk to new levels of obscenity
on her knees… “please be with me”
like a slave she was sold
and passed around
she became the tramp of the town

no husband… no daughters or sons
she prayed for forgiveness
as she shot the gun
Creating Dreams...
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last updated on 10 June 2017
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13 Years
This poem was written just over six years ago.  It is based on a couple of experiences that had recently happened at that time.  One
was a young lady who couldn't stay sober because her family didn't like the "new her".  I still get in a somewhat shock state, whenever
I see an alcoholic/addict become clean. It's something their family wanted for a long time, but when it happens the family does
everything possible to sabotage the recovery and go back to the old ways...

The other part of this poem was inspired by a neighbor I grew up with and even dated for awhile.  We were poison together, both
drunk and both filled with anger and rage.  Besides being drunks, we were both children of alcoholics as well.  Anyway, while I
escaped this hell, she never did.  She died from abuse of alcohol and drugs.
Trash With Class