She knew a woman who slept with a man because he was rich.
She knew a woman who slept with a man and he called her rich.
She knew she’d eat soup in a tin can everyday rather than pimp herself in that way.
She knew she’d live on stamps and picked garbage for shoes, rather than play the rich man’s blues.
She watches still and she see’s them go, wondering when the whole roof is going to blow of the trailer park “real.”
She saw her in the oval office too.
She pulls out her books, ones she found in the street, turned the pages, and thought twice of making any meaning out of it, watched from afar as she did every night when the drunk men walked out of bars, jobless, hurt and with no care.
She knew women who told them they were worthless and couldn’t find love even it was sold at the local fair.
She went off to school, where they wanted her photos, her legs and her hair.
She gave back gifts, and money when they offered it with no “strings attached.”
She’s not rich, but she’s could never be on her knees begging for any cup of golden spouted teas.
Photo by Melinda Cochrane – All Rights Reserved