MY ATTEMPT AT WRITING POETRY

This poem was never published. I’m sure the

places where I usually sought publication would

not welcome it.  

       TWO LOVERS

She fondles the syringe

As she was once fondled

By a lover long ago

For this is her love now.

The product of her first love

Gently moves within,

The product of her new love

Scars arms and thighs.

Her child kicks,

Struggling for life,

She forgets the past

As the child is robbed of a future.

She sends her new love coursing her veins,

The child trembles then is still.

All is quiet as the night begins,

All is quiet,

As the endless night begins.