The prompt from Poetic Asides was to take the phrase "The Trouble Is" and follow it with something, then write the poem. I wasn't entirely sure where to go with it, but my friend Yinka gave me an idea at work today after I explained the prompt and I went with it...
The trouble is that these girls
I work with are having babies.
Girls that are barely out of their
teen years. Girls who, before their
bellies began to bloat, walked around
with exposed midriffs and too much
eye makeup. Girls who came to work
hung over. Girls who had glazed eyes
and brazenly told me that if I ever
needed pot to let them know. Girls who
were pulled over, arrested and ended
up in the news blotter of the Burlington
County Times. Girls who are going to be
someone’s mom now. That’s what scares
me the most.