Shining The Spotlight On Jack Tinmouth
Waitress
She smokes cheap menthol cigarettes,
wears a heart scarred by foregone
wars on her sleeve in the form
of an old tattoo. Ink faded and letters
blurred by the passage of time.
She spends her days avoiding
preachers on the street, an unholy
radical and refuses to hear things
she doesn’t want to know.
She works in a workerâs cafe near
some back-ways builderâs merchant.
Spends her days ignoring advances
and eager eyes while picking up tips
with overfilled hands. Her eyes are
dull. Stray greying hairs hang in her
eyeline. She gave up sweeping
them away long ago.
The look upon her face says her soul is
torn. Shredded by too many men who
never had the best intentions or an
ounce of honesty in them while she sat
there selfishly, waiting for them to save
her from this life of monotony sheâs
found herself in. Old hands and older
eyes fed up with the sight of
young girls acting dumb around
men who would never be any good
for them. Knowing full well
the path that took her down so
many years and moons ago.
© Jack Tinmouth
Featured Writer at âCreative Talents Unleashed Writers Groupâ
http://www.facebook.com/groups/ctupublishing
