Picture This Poem by elena winters

Picture This

Rating: 5.0

i picture stepping outside in the frosty air
the wind cracks my face like sidewalk cement
on the other side of the street there's a pale man
begging for coins under the light that shines above him
next to a woman wrapped in a torn cloth with the look
of desperation in her icy blue eyes i quickly turn to walk
away with that image sealed inside my mind

i picture being that little girl whose mother
is so strung out and willing to give up anything
for a rock even the apartment which led
me to sleeping on cardboard pads i picture
having to walk the cold streets for moma's
addiction sometimes forced to be a participant in
one of her deadliest heroin scandals and for some
reason we succeeded through all these episodes
until it led her mother to one of the most desperate
decisions of her life........sell her daughter's innocence

i picture being that woman whose body reveals black
and blue prints how many beatings has she suffered
through the last 8 years of her marriage? to many to count
i picture the most ecruciating pain ever witnessed
from ciggarette burns to stove tops i picture being a prisoner
to my own husband

i picture these things because in the real world
situations like this does happen.......i've seen it
but despite all they been through people manage
to take each piece of themselves and put them
back in place and become a strong as they were
before.....the same person but with a totally
diffrent perspective


nice piece. nicely written, nice, nice, nice

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Dr. Kolitha Lelwala 19 January 2009

A beautiful piece of poetry, granting a picture of the real world infested with drugs. you projected my thoughts to beggers in the capital of SriLanka, step into busses carrying infants begging for coins to feed the innocent. Oneday I followed one in disguise what he really towards. He rushed into a slum and found to be smoking Herion. Oh what a pathetic story. The little one was just rolling over by his side and he didn't care of the innocent till he finish the sniff. What an elegant ay of painting the image in your mind. Thanks sharing.10++++

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Rivers' Baby Gurl ;) 19 January 2009

very nice :) .....very sad! ! ! : ( my kind of poem! ! ! u r an excellent writer

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C. P. Sharma 19 January 2009

......a poem full of imaginative sympathy for the poor and the suffering womanhood...... a good poem with reeling heart. CP

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Sulaiman Mohd Yusof 19 January 2009

Keep moving even if you have to be the last person standing.This is whats life all about.Good job dear.

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Madeline Berry 24 February 2009

Quite relevent to the world issues. I would reccomend a look over for gramatical errors but overall good job

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Little Morning Star 29 January 2009

wonderful poem.. no more word to be said.

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Abraham De La Torrre 20 January 2009

first things being first, the grammar/misspelling nits: too many to count; excruciating; cigarette; prisoner of (not to): situations do (not does) and, by the same token, them (not it): they've been (not they been) through): put it (not them) referring to piece): as (not a) strong as): and different (double 'f') . having survived my critical eye, you deserve a doff of my hat to your empathy. not because your relating to the visuals you saw and, therefore, repainted before your reader are borne on your very own past, which is a thankful present, but that you wish on the people you feel for your very same perspective. and that's as good as having changed yourself. it was up to you, it is now up to them. the question is: are they equal to your task? maybe if you keep writing they will be. so go, girl.

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Khadijah Tate 20 January 2009

This is A Beautiful Poem!

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Argenis Hernandez 20 January 2009

Very extraordinary writing. You really know how to exploit your plume like a human exploits land to make vast crop lands and beautiful rose bushes. Amazingly done.

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