Untold Stories
She raises her hand in prayer
And asks for things to help reach her peak
Where are the roads, the cleared up paths?
Her eyes beaming the sufferings she’d known
The struggles she has endured
Her child on a worn out cloth,
Weeping eyes dried of tears
Her stomach begs for survival far from sustenance
Is she to cry or crawl under a wasted sheet
Where hope is in drops of hydration?
A beggar in tattered clothes leans on a brick wall
And asks for loose change
A passerby sighs at such a sight
Offers pennies and signs on for pity’s sake
Others spite such circumstances which bear no resemblance
To a well developed society
A little girl in pretty clothes asks her father
Are these the forgotten?
A young boy plays in the dust,
His brother ravaging through waste searching for treasure in a refuse dump,
on the hillside in a city clamoring in boom and growth.
Jungle of concrete sprout its head in every corner, tangling its citizens, amplifying vapid lives.
A young man begs for the days of spring
And wish for stars to brighten up the sky.
A little girl ponders the job of a soldier aunt that serves its queen.
A mother smiles at the warmth of a fireplace
A father looks out across the meadow and contemplates
A writer sits in an unknown corner ready
To write untold stories.
