Lost Girl Blues Poem by Kewayne Wadley

She loved to go out and view the sights.
She'd Partake in a few drinks here and there.
Searching for a release to the troubles that seemed to follow her
Wherever she went.
Her face hid the scars she was afraid to show.
A pack of swisher sweets now empty.
Consumed in smoke.
She'd laugh and smile at the simplest of things.
Quickly reaching for her phone.
Making plans to roll another.
Her high no longer the same.
Making trouble where there is none to be found.
She wore the latest of trends.
From her hair down to her shoes.
Most revealing in certain areas.
Her head would bob back and forth preferring
her music louder than most.
Lost somewhere between the chorus and her favorite part of the 808.
She couldn't help but feel alone.
Searching the city for a place to belong.
A self made model, gallery full of pictures taken in public restaurants
Bathroom head shots.
She'd partake in a few drinks here and there,
Never knowing when to stop.
Wherever she'd go she'd sing the same song.
Staring off into space.
A very particular woman as her conversation was never the same,
Except on nights the moon couldn't be seen.
Her eyes cut low, An eclipse leaving nothing but a crescent.
Shrinking in size the more smoke she consumed.
She was the type of woman every man pursued.
Feeling alone she never knew the definition of love outside of the movies seen on TV.
She'd chase after images seen in scripts filled with heated arguments.
One night stands, and hustlers whom used women for one thing.
And one thing only.
She'd blow her smoke chased behind straight shots of liquor
trying to fill the void.
She moved with much passion, searching the city.
Fingers addicted to social media.
She'd smile and dance. Pretending the walls waiting for her back home didn't exist.
Wanting to be left alone not understanding the mixed messages she sends.
She refuses the guys that constantly jump behind her while she danced.
Confusing love for lust she'd except some of them only to find that they only wanted one thing.
Attracted to her own reflection in the mirror
The different hair styles that complimented her face.
Her eyes would always water,
Not knowing her own worth.
As She'd portray an image that was never meant for her
Another pack of swisher sweets now empty
As she'd sing the same song