|
|
|
|
Homeless
by Cat Melvin
There was an old woman
lived in a box,
always wore boots
and mismatching socks.
Trundled her basket
picking up cans,
wore fingerless gloves
and rings on both hands.
Used to be pretty
when she was still human.
Now nobody sees her,
their eyes will not meet hers,
especially those
who think they’re still someone.
|
|
|