Perhaps

By Camincha


PERHAPS

there was a time
her mother loved her.
Her father sat her
on his knees
and rocked her.

Perhaps
those now-empty
holes one day were
bright blue eyes.
Those furrows on her
ashen skin, smile lines.

Perhaps
the matted hair one day
had golden reflections
that brightened the room.

Perhaps,
had things been otherwise,
today, a day to celebrate, her
birthday, she is twenty-one,
She would be tasting wine with friends.

Instead she is sentenced to
10 years in the State Pen.
Among the charges
possession of drugs for sale.

Perhaps...