Atlantic City

She walks the boards in Atlantic City
Oblivious to the looks of pity.
She sleeps under the boards in Atlantic City
with a cat she found. She calls it Kitty.

And across the way the casinos boom
where the high-rollin' gamblers have a room
with beds so plush, a rich man's tomb.
It's cleaned and swept with a servant's broom.

She awakens and finds a bench in Atlantic City.
She brushes away the sand from her eyes so gritty.
Once long ago she was young and pretty.
That was way before Atlantic City.

She remembers bits and pieces of way back then,
but can't put them together of how or when.
Her mind has snapped over and again
and she's become a forgotten denizen.

All that she owns are in two small bags.
All that she wears are worn out rags.
She picksup cigarette butts and takes a few drags
and walks the boards of Atlantic City.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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