Resigned to Fate Series: apathy of reality

she stands alone
amidst the sea
of hurried humanity.
dressed only
in ragged wear
patched together
in absent care
that struggles so
to cover skin
and unknown scars
that lie within.

her placid face
and hollow eyes
plead with
motorists and passers-by,
but all they do
is look away,
curse the system,
curse the day.
she knocks glass doors,
peering to see
if a coin or two
will fall down free,
from purses that bulge
with consumerist greed
whilst the likes of her
beg to feed.


a clatter here,
a note there,
sometimes nothing more
than a vacant stare
at other times,
a rude word or two
they all see her
but do not look,
afraid
that her sight
might wet their hearts,
they turn away,
shut their eye.

night falls
and she is forced
away from
her patchwork clothes.
she submits
and lies down
to feed
empty desires
on the streets.
lust swells to monstrous form,
until a child bursts forth,
from within her womb.

soon he rests upon her sling
oblivious to
the worldly din,
carelessly suckles
from a breast
devoid of love,
but wet with torrents
from above.
the breast struggles valiantly
to remain within,
the folds of cloth,
now worn tired, thin.

his scalp is singed red
by lice and dust
that have settled in
between the tufts
of hair and skin.
he wails in hunger,
and in pain.
then she holds him
tenderly,
for all hurried humanity
to look, to see.
now she knows
it’s easier on the streets,
for the rupee or two
will fall more easily.

Love, anger, hate et al
What are these, please?
In this battle of survival,
There’s no time to feel.