Brokern again like a bad bad feeling <br />that keeps repeating and when you <br />finaly relax BANG it’s there again <br />SMACK wallop in your face, swirling <br />around in your day time night dreams <br /> <br />Trusted again once too much, <br />now she’s making wishes <br />when the moon is full <br /> <br />Curse the mother she never knew <br />curse the whiteman who raped her <br />mother, the mother she never knew, <br />curse those responsible, especially <br />those who knew <br /> <br />Poor poor pretty Polly, lies silent <br />in an inner surburban gutter. <br />‘What a sweety’, ‘such a shame’, <br />‘so pretty and now she’s dead’. <br />Some say of a brokern heart, others <br />snigger ‘she gave too much’. Some <br />say, some say, ‘poor poor pretty Polly’ <br />Rest in Peace<br /><br />Lisa Bellear<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poor-pretty-polly/
