She turned the radio on
It was six in the morning
Poured herself some coffee
And started the day
On a bright little morning

Plays some music
To reminisce of old days
Of 5 cent sodas and teenage love
Of cheap life bills and
Childish love

She puts her hat on
After covering the pale face
With blush and shadows
And her gaze in a lace

She grins at her neighbors
And smiles to the alley cat
She puts the trash
In the new can
And dusts her shoes
As best as she can

Her pears are all but pulled
And her books atop the shelf
Next to the journal
Safely locked
Up in a box
At the nearest dock

It is now 8
So she sits by a window
To sing to a crow
And confide her sins
To swear she’s on the know
Of what’s in the bin

Songs keep blaring
She packs up her bags
Oblivious to silence
Her belongings 
It’s what she drags

An empty book
And a Bible
A handkerchief
And a bottle

She cleans her shoes
And heads for the back door
Going out again
Going out for more

Seven days have passed
She never came back
Radio plays that song again
For the neighbors and the cat