The child, <br />Siting hunched in the corner, <br />Cold and hungry, <br />Watches the heaving bodies on the make-shift bed. <br /> <br />Although he sees this act <br />At least twice a day <br />Sex has no meaning to him, <br />- It's just mummy making money! <br /> <br />Maybe this time - <br />She'll have enough money left to feed him. <br />Maybe this time! <br /> <br />Suddenly he wakes <br />From a cold-induced sleep <br />To find a loaf of bread on the floor. <br />Gorging himself greedily <br />Something shiny catches his eye <br />From his mother's bed. <br /> <br />Just for a second he sees the needle <br />Before it plunges home. <br /> <br />He smiles <br />Relief fills his emaciated form, <br />No beatings tonight he thinks.<br /><br />jayne jenkins<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/everyday-existance/
