One Busy Morning And A Story Untold.
The small crowd mingled,
Around the slight figure crumpled.
On the edge of the busy main road,
Just under the street name board.
Though the city streets were full of those,
Who lost their way, their house, and spouse.
But she was completely different in some way.
A few hearts ~ her good looks could still sway.
She looked weak, but not unhealthy,
Achingly attractive but very, very dirty.
Once a blooming rose, fast losing its glow,
Unknown to herself she was on the show.
Some sighed by acting with pity,
Some looked with genuine sympathy.
A few letched at her slender n slim line,
And quite a few suspected her of some crime.
Unaware of the highway din,
Neither fully awake not sleeping.
A forsaken child of the mankind,
For the world around, she was blind.
A security man poked her with cane,
Shouted at her to get lost in the bylane.
Bringing her back to her miserable life,
Forcing her to face her grief and strife.
She opened her eyes with a great effort,
Wet yet so deep eyes, confused and hurt.
She moved her hand searching for a hold,
Trying to grope thin air for a little support.
Just then, a middle aged lady stepped forward,
Self conscious, hesitant and little bit awkward.
To give her aid, she tried to hold her fragile hand,
She recoiled and threw on her - some dry sand.
A brief fire burnt in her exhaustive eyes,
Like a strike of lightning in the dark skies.
Her lips twisted n she uttered somewhat foul,
Bleeding words came out of her wounded soul.
She stood up with her slow pace in grace,
Dark emotions written large on her face.
Gingerly turned back and left the busy road,
Taking along with her - yet another story untold.
*** This is the depiction of a real life incident happened on one of the busy streets.
Prayers for Her.