THE UNSEEN

INVISIBLE

By Frances Harris

Nobody sees you walking these streets,

Pushing your trolley, hungry, disheveled,

You pass by the shops, and then turn to the right,

Looking for something; someone perhaps?

People around you, they all turn away,

On the side of the trolley, a story to tell,

A name and a message for people to see,

‘Thank you for tips,’ the first of them says,

‘My name is Irene,’

I can’t turn away,

Irene has been walking these streets for a while,

The dog that she’s carried is no longer here,

Where do you go when the light turns to dark?

Your innocence shows,

In a world of your own,

Your head is bowed low as you go near the crowd,

The dress that you wear is tattered and torn,

How do you cope when winter comes on?

A difficult life

For someone like you,

I don’t see you speak, when you amble this way,

Your eyes are quite red and tinged with despair,

It’s sadness I see, and a silent resolve,

You make it each day,

Another, to see,

As you walk I feel helpless, I can’t take the chance,

You might become frightened and show me your heels,

I summon the courage to call you by name,

You look at me blankly as if I’m not here,

A minute or two goes by then I see,

You turn to me slightly, while walking away,

A smile on your lips has lifted my day.