Brazen, she walks shamelessly barefoot and in rags.
Her hair in dread locks,
Wriggles around the bunch of sadness and ugliness.
Ugliness is what others see.
All that filth that covers the years of misery and hardship.
Dirt is all they see.
No wrinkle carries anything visible except the extract of grime.
Wails of sirens and toxins surround her.
The city of despair,
Bare, ignorant, pushy, fast.
No one sees her.
But many look at her with contempt.
All her cardboards break the dullness of city noises,
With their simple swishing.
Reminder to the books she had read when she was a child.
With her father.
Joyless wasting of nerves and memory.
Peace of mind is all one needs.
She walks, she drags her bare feet.
They are cold.