A Driver Named Sam

and as he drove,
slowly past,
a couple on the corner,
he looked away,
the nosering girl,
was kissing some guy,
wat looked to be,
good bye.
but what's she
doing,
down here,
in the nasty part,
of their nasty,
city?
this is where,
his boy,
shot his woman,
and left him
alone.
and with njothing to turn to,
he went to the bar,
and from across the room,
met the girl,
the girl with the broken smile,
and the nosering.
and suddenly,
thud.
he hit her.
he hit her.
the one who cared,
the one who sat up,
all night talking,
of things gone past,
and of things sorrowed,
and how now,
he should focus on,
thinking of,
bright tomorroes.
becuase once it's over,
it won't matter.
and from her advice,
he moved on.
still single,
kid disowned,
and living all alone,
driving his prized bus,
route 67.
waiting till the day,
he can go to heaven,
and see his love again.

she lay there, 
so peacful looking,
her arm obviously broken,
a cigarette burning her hair,
and her tiny nose,
so perfect,
bleeding.
she held a frown,
as if questioning why,
why now she was laying down,
why was she not walking,
moving on with life.
why is she still?
but then he realized,
she never did 
know how to smile.
her seats her in his bus,
hands her kleenex,
tries to place her broken arm
in a comfty place,
but she insists
on using it,
to clean her face.
she lays quiet,
and he takes her to safety,
not caring,
how much trouble,
he is in,
for running down a white girl,
at 3 am.

he says good bye
as they take her off,
he turn and exits,
his part here,
is over, and done.


xoxo
Kyelle