She was

I can remember her now
She claimed her name
Was Rosie
A weird
Smacked out
Burnt up
Streetwalker
Who lurked like a
Constant shadow
And a too sad reminder
Of the worlds sickness
The fag perpetually
Hanging from her lips
Her semen stained
Charity shop dress
Hugging her frail
Bones and
Old flesh close
As she ranted and yelled
At the passing suburbanite
Cars too afraid
Or too cheap
to stop for her
Her beating on the
Door of one of my neighbours
Bashing and blasting
The door from its frame
Desperate
Afraid
It turns out
She hadn't paid her
Dues and the local dealers
Came for her with their
Guns and their
Knives and their
Snarls of rage
She woke me up
With her banging and yelling
I cursed her
And never saw her
On her familiar street corner
Again

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