The girl with the long stringy
hair, the long greasy hair. The girl
who wore ill fitting, faded clothes
-clothes that had been passed down
& passed down again. The girl
who had a crush on me & wrote
me love letters, letters that said "I
saw you at the tennis court Tuesday
& wanted to walk over, but my father
was home." The girl whose father
had a sailboat stocked with food
& supplies in his backyard, whose
father sent her out for firewood half
-naked at three in the morning, whose
father held the entire family hostage
with a shotgun. The girl who needed
me, needed someone. The girl I didn't
acknowledge until now.
Corey Cook, New Hampshire, USA
2 comments:
When I started reading this poem, I had no idea where it was going to end. So many people have secrets that we're not aware of until too late.
I really love this piece. The way 'the girl' is repeated again and again to slowly reveal more information about her situation. I felt like the majority of the poem let me into the head of the writer as a boy-but the last bit switched me to the adult perspective-the things that the boy could never have seen. Very poignant.
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