45th & Maine Poem by Melvina Germain

45th & Maine

He sat on the stoop behind 45th and Maine,
skitcing a little bit while doing cocaine.
There ain’t much happening in this life of his.
He’s just an old bum with little time to live.

He’d scratch his head and look at nothing,
for his mind is mostly a blur.
In the good times he wondered how he got there,
and why his words were a slur.

The tears fell on lonely nights as he sat in the cold,
but the stories he remembered were those that he never told.
The beatings, such abuse he suffered as a child,
no one there to help, no one with a smile.

He wondered, if someone cared would he still be there.
Sitting on that stoop behind 45th and Maine,
feeling ashamed, heart filled with pain.
No answer came, he didn’t know,
soon he knew he would have to go.

The only way out was a drastic measure,
but one he knew he would take.
Freedom will reign and gone with the pain,
so in that pine box he’ll go.

Out of this world to a brand new light,
unlike any old picture show.

Written by: Melvina Germain
Date: Jan.11/2009