Poetry

What Would You Do If You Were Me — in a Life of Poverty

A poetic plea

Source Wolfgang van der Rydt on Pixabay

I see your knees
Trampling past
My spot upon the pavement

Defined by your shoes
The shiny ones pick up their pace
And hurry by
The worn heels
And ragged sneakers
Stop and
Drop a coin or two

Are you blind
Do you not see me
So low in life

Am I invisible

When I miss
The queue for
A hot mug of soup
Do you hear my cries of hunger
In the night

Are you deaf
Or have I learned to sob in silence
For shame of being heard

If I ask for sanctuary
Will you answer
Are my vocal strings so broken
Larynx and dry tongue
I cannot articulate the question