Conclusions
A small child sits quietly reading a
book
The mother is outfitted with a meager
look
No ring on her finger, no man by her
side
She’s carrying herself with ego and
pride.
“Mommy, I’m cold,” the little girl says
with a cry
The mother looks back with certain evil
in her eye.
Her skimpy tank top is cut way too low
Flaunting her cleavage for some naïve
young beau.
The child not dressed for the too cool
air
Mother oblivious, sits with a blank
stare
How do I know what goes on in her life?
Perhaps it’s been filled with heartbreak
and strife.
The child is interracial I can tell from
her skin,
My mind is convicted from this judgment
of sin
Little girl’s finger slides deep into
her nose,
I feel so sad, wish I could give her new
clothes.
Conclusions we draw from just a short
look
Become the characters in the writer’s next
book.