Dexsta Ray

Gold Star - 14,415 Points (March 8,1994 -)

Kelly's Story - Poem by Dexsta Ray

But how could one explain such pain?
From place to place
Out on the streets… it's crazy
Nowhere to stay or go to sleep, something changed
People whispering, 'That's solely her fault.'
I get the gist to a certain
But that of Kelly crashed the average
Rigid tinder, facts and brackets, it ain't like she didn't have her a place
The family's damaged
Like abandoned
Chafing away… the hazards brewing
Shady characters may capture her, some fashion faux pas
Tactless in the actions
On the area of this dirty game
Dirty tricks
A different look, the foster home is out
No, they won't allow this… hurt and rage to be constrained, a fix
See…. Kelly's in a major pit, brushed under rugs
By society, stating it, present
Donned as scum, a subject, Kelly, hushed and rushed to the dungeons
Not accepted as a human being but judged as a monster
It's like a hustle and method to this living
More than checking for the
Turning quarters from the stuff within the dumpsters to a little extra cash
Kelly, wouldn't confess to that…
For her circumstances wasn't a result of reckless acts
Doesn't matter 'cause now Kelly's in it bad
Seeking government assistance but they never getting back
And it's crazy how priorities are obviously crossed
To think accordingly, embrace or knock the poverty off?
'Cause that's a real problem
Most of the establishments aligned
Are from the people
'Cause the revolution growing, but it ain't there, trying to build prospects
In a large city, Kelly walking, still plotting
Found a bag of clothes
Asked for rolls, that's a meal probably, trying steal, watching
Zipping, seal, lock it, anything, to kill conflict, deep inside! You couldn't tell it
Polished eyes… some still robbed her
Left her naked
Through the street, ain't a trace of peace
Glad she had that bag of clothes, can't complain, it's free
If she was Christian, would've known, and would've made a leap
Jesus would've changed the scene, if only she had faith in He
But she is stuck and couldn't see past the struggle
Only used to being abused
Don't believe man could love her
Ain't no hope to tell the
Kelly sitting on the step, with a fifth of methyl juice, and somebody walking by
Saw her cup, and kicked her shoes, Kelly doesn't really care
She don't have nix to lose
Everyday, the clock turns back, employers lying to her, saying they'll get back with her
But never page
If she had a helping hand or something
She'll better change, but she know won't any hand her nothing
Except disdain
And the picture just expands out further
To you can see the whole earth, many people, see, that this was just Kelly's story
Well, it's normally, in other facets, though unfortunately
Poverty is something to be knocked
Locked and stopped
For it's the source of all other problems in the slot

Topic(s) of this poem: truth

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Poem Submitted: Friday, August 28, 2015

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