Baby girl bent and broken, bleeding,

after she took a tangled tumble

in the backseat of an automobile

masquerading as a washing machine.


Life leached from her little body

at such a tragically young age,

leaving my little brother without

his fire-cracker, Tom boy best friend.


Absent seat belt, addition of drugs

and alcohol to the mix of 31's

two-lane traffic cocktail, her mom

glided across the yellow-dotted line.


Personality bursting at the seams,

her body turned into a pin-ball

machine in that back seat. Every

single bone in her body had broken.


Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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