Her life is a bag hung over her shoulder
Our yesterday discards, her sustenance now
As rivulets seeking the easiest path
She blandly meanders across the wide road
Some at this stoplight see her with pity
Others among us view only disdain
Like a well-written mystery her story eludes us
Yet peering beyond a ragged old kerchief
Her gray weary eyes cast envious glances
Poor indigent soul, can't you do better
Aside from your gait you look healthy enough
I saw in its window, McDonald's is hiring
You must earn your keep, you'll like yourself for it
Held up in traffic
My focused mind races
Deadlines, commitments, reports due today
Too much to do, not enough time
In this moment of stress my perception is changed
Bag Lady is more than What hangs from her person
Her indigent freedom on poignant display
For one fleeting moment her eyes become mine
I own all her glances and view her with envy
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It very strange, how you can envy someone who has so little is it not? People don't see how well some others have it, or are too busy to see it. You have a boatload of talent! Keep writing!
I'm off to go read your other poems~!
Toss me in the bag! I'd love to follow this lady around. Possibly hire her to be my eyes as she strolls down all the back alleys my brush loves to paint.
I understood the message of your writing. I don't think that, beyond that, too much critique is really meaningful. This is the kind of writing that is multi-faceted in its view, its approach, and in its final gift to the reader. It needs more than one reading, which is its own reward, far more than I could offer. ^^