A Drunk lies dead
Married at fifteen
to a drunk of thirty.
Mother of three
and not yet twenty.
Barely a child
small and slight, burdened
to fend for fiend and four,
joy for her never more.
Slap, hammer, blows rain
on young tender face,
bruised and swollen.
'I fell' says she with grace.
He writhes in pain,
liver is gone, medicines
from borrowed money,
to douse fire in the belly.
He lies dead. She grieves.
Good riddance some say;
'my hopes gone'
anguished is her wail.
Contradictions of life;
can anyone explain?
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