I live in my cluttered office
on the seamy side of town.
My heart is so touched with sorrow
when I see what's going down.
This girl lives across the hallway,
and she looks so very fine,
but has arms all pocked by needles
in an ugly, festered line.
She walks out into the hallway,
in a tattered gingham gown.
When she bends to get her paper,
I see teardrops trickle down.
She is young, yet old in hardship.
All her problems now combine,
holding fast, her life in ransom
for a price fate will assign.
From: Third Book from the Sun
Copyright 2009 © James Walter Orr