By Jenna Holland (poetic_angel@gurlmail.com)
Date: 20 August 1999

You weren't here

My face to the wall 
   of the drug dealers house
Your face to the cement wall
   of your cell.

You weren't here when 
   when he touched me
   when he beat me
   when I was in the hospital.

When do you expect to save me?

You know, you make me laugh,
   you make me smile,
   but I'd rather have,
What makes me cry.