Walking the streets with shuffling
footsteps carrying all she owns
not mindful of people staring
not caring that life stole
family, a life, a home
Sitting on a bench back bending
eyes closed in the noon day sun
faceless among passersby
resembling a live statue
created by all and none
Sleeping by the wall of a bus stop
disappearing in layers of clothes
all that she has in the world
now she is nameless alone
living a life not chosen
Ā© April 2011 Renee Espriu
reneejustturtleflight.com 
A tragic but well-painted portrait.
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Thank you, we all need to be aware of what we are greatful for, and that none of us is very far from the streets and being homeless. Most Americans these days are one paycheck away from poverty. No nothing separates us from the facts of poverty and yet being the richest country in the world and women and children are going hungry. There is definately something wrong with this picture. You gave the meaning some grace.
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Well narrated ..
I recently read a book on a lady who lived almost the same [ a bit better off] and yet she had such a colorful blessed life ..
some times living so is the beginning of true joys ..
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you have captured, failed and expressed her pain perfectly. very touching and beautiful renee.
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Very moving.
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Thank you for visiting and thank you for your comment.
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Oh I so resonate with this poem. I feel for those people shuffling along, their entire life in garbage bags. “living a life not chosen”. So well said.
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