The lowest of expectations are key to abuse and abuse can be very subtle.


Expecting Nothing

Her eyes are dark with quiet fear,
furtive, clinging to the silver
ornament of his scuffed boots,
worn thin more by arrogance than time
Speaking with her body, imagery,
she is currency, he holds the note

Her worth is as he values it, not more
Immediate and subject to an alien law,
the resource unshared, a one way deal
Her book written in posture, no kind words
Who needs the other less is winner
and he holds all aces, kings and queens

Like money, some is never quite enough
She is only some, the bills well worn
Unspendable, dropped finally in gutters,
her inconvenience defined, a shaky cigarette
offered with contempt, before the execution

Wordlessly, he turned and left, she followed,
trailed his silver booted indifference, firing
a hail of silent bullets, catching her wide eyed
Her bleeding, long past remembered pain,
expecting nothing, knowing it was there

Poetry Collection: Corner of My Mind
This poem is included in
Jim Freeman’s
poetry collection

CORNER OF MY MIND
available here in print
or as an e-Book
in your favorite formats.