The night is dark and deep
But the picture from the morning
Refuses to go away….
She stopped the traffic
Holding a decorated box
Mostly empty
Unkempt and ill-fitting clothes
A tiny frame
Couldn’t have lived more than
four or five years
Unconcerned about the light
That had turned green…
Horns blaring for no one could see her
The guy ahead of me stopped, I stopped
She held her empty box tightly
And continued to walk
In the middle of the road
Towards her family across
…. What is this world we live in ?
A child begging for food
Vacant eyes
Vacant mind
Childhood stolen from her
Her life empty like the box she clutches
And around her life goes on
The swanky cars
The swish train
The more than full stomachs
And clean warm clothes….
Empty lives wrapped in glitter
Days turn to months to years
The muck of indifference
Piles a mile high
The apathy masks any caring thought
And this little girl too is forgotten !
I don’t know her name
Maybe tomorrow I will care enough
To stop and ask…