Trailer of Tears
The dingy grey single-wide grows
From the edge of the highway,
A weed with the will to sprout there,
But not the vitality to thrive.
A poverty of attention makes up the
Thin skin with the powder of neglect.
A concrete block for a step is the
Only plant that shows a human hand.
Someone lives here,
Someone who can't afford to care,
Someone with nothing to hide.
Someone calls this home.