A Baby Cries Poem by Errol Anderson

The baby cried again that night
From the haze her mother tried to regain her sight.
Strung out again on coke
She was still trying to find yet another toke.
It's no fun being sixteen and a mother
But it was too late to be any other.

The baby cried again that night
This time her mother was struck with fright.
One more sound and it'll be your last
Now she wished she could've changed her past.
Visions of torment would come to light
And the baby didn't cry again that night.