Iron In Her Pocket Poem by Ashley burnam

Flashing light,
moving fast.
A teenage girl sits in the back seat.

Her daddy drives her home.
His uniform is worn and old,
She will never go back.

With her head turned to the side,
Look at the black, bloody eye.
You guessed it; she got into a fight.

It's like this every week,
down at the bowling alley on baker street.
Some words are said,
some fist let loose,
But tears are never shed.

Her daddy turned and asked what happened,
She said she didn't know.
She's too ashamed to let him know
It's all about her friends and this dude.

She chooses them over him,
They beg her not to come.
She continues on and smiles
Her work isn't done.

He trail's her there,
Beats her at the bowling aleey on baker street,
But tonight it will be different -

She's tired and cold,
Deadly iron in her pocket,
She's got all the time in the world.

That night in the bowling Alley on Baker street,
He approaches silently.
Her friends grow quiet,
The girl, she turns real slow.

'So your friends are more important than the love you have for me? '

He raises hand to swing-

She duck's real quick!
Digs in her pocket
And strikes out real hard!

His face swell's and bleeds
As she sighs in relief,
The iron knuckles covered in blood,
Sliding down and landed next to her feet.

Blind people can finally see,
Men come and grab him away just as the girl says-

'My friends are worth more than a man,
that hits a girl everyday! '

Eye's red with rage he kicks out and high,
She falls down as he's dragged away.

Flashing lights,
Moving real fast!
The teenage girl has finally won.