The suitcase

She held a dirty suitcase in her sweaty grip.
Every few minutes, she would shift
To ensure it did not slip.
She then envisioned the fall
....How the sound would resonate.

Preparing for the aftershock
Instead, her grip secured their fate.

This object alone, she held inside her dingy palms
She wrote The Broken Girl blues
Her voice paying her alms.
...the weight of being a silent doll
Preparing for a lifetime
locked between chipped walls

Reviews

[Jamil Isimbabi]

...the weight of being a silent doll
Preparing for a lifetime
locked between chipped walls … good write, though it sounds more like an excerpt that should be in a book than a poem..don't get me wrong it's still beautiful.

[HeazerH]

I hadn't thought of that, but I could use it more for a story. Thanks for reading and i am glad you think it is beautiful.