Poetry

driving to distraction poverty poetry

poverty poetry

I'll polish your boots
for some gas money
some food money
hell, maybe even for
a good back rub, honey

'cause I just can't make ends meet
I can't even find the ends
the end of the cycle of poverty
the end of the equal distribution
of poverty
i had some money last week
then I had to buy groceries
is that making ends meet?

my parents and I
borrow money from each other
with good intentions of paying back
but we know it won't happen
we just keep signing up for loans
so I can buy me an education
that will buy me a job
so I can start paying back
for the money
that I
lack

driving to distraction

I am driving and we are singing
you beat your hand with the beat
we don't even notice when we mix up the lyrics
we're too distracted

I'll miss the driving most of all
slightly melted chocolate
but I like it that way and lick your fingertips clean

You are driving with your hand on me
I was hurting but now I'm too distracted
by your fingertips moving skillfully

I am driving
Enough pain to keep me from falling asleep
Remembering the night before
and smiling
too distracted

You are driving and telling me a story
Telling me the stories from your life
I wonder how you'll tell my story
I wonder how you'll talk of me

And we're both frightened of being forgotten
but you're planted in my mind
burrowing into my heart
and I can't imagine forgetting you

The driving makes me hurt
I'd never drive this much, this far, this long
If it weren't for you

You make a good distraction