Next Hit
she was smoking crack with a baby in her belly,
she was laughing and crying, waiting for that next
hit.
she use to be beautiful, now she looks like a dreadful
nightmare, and that nightmare stinks...
you can hear that baby punching,
you can hear that baby wailing,
you can see that baby fighting for its life.
yea, even a fetus has the right.
poem by David Gerardino
Added by Poetry Lover
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