The Pillow With The Silver Star

she runs
and never looks back
she hides herself
in an abandoned car
she sleeps there
until the sirens fade

she goes to the pawn shop to trade
the watch she stole that day
for money that she could share
with her family that lives by the track
she stuff it in her little jar
and puts it on the shelf

she hums a lullaby to herself
and cries on the pillow that was handmade
by her mother with a big silver star
in the middle it lay
the background a midnight black
just like the color of her hair

her mother used to sit in that rocking chair
now she only sits in a picture on the shelf
her father disappeared while addicted to crack
her brothers and sisters, their beds, they've made
dirt for a floor, there's no place to play
she tearfully counts the money in the jar

she'll go out tonight; she doesn't know how far
it'll be dangerous, but she doesn't care
nothing's ever certain in the month of May
in dirty clothes, she dresses herself
sirens wail and she hides in the shade
then, with a watchful eye, she crosses the track

never look back
in an abandoned car
until the sirens fade
she sleeps there
she hides herself
she runs away

1996