She was bent over and stooped.
Pulling a cart of cardboard boxes.
To sell at recycleable yards.
She is one of many, many homeless.
In her eighties, she struggles daily.
Walking the city, pulling her cart.
She was once a wife and mother.
But life took a turn; a bleak future.
She is a widow. Where are her children?
Their mother struggles to stay alive.
She is one of many, many homeless.
Old and alone, forgotten; discarded.
Does a heart really break?
Yes! If a heart is tender.
A heart breaks for lost love.
A heart breaks for this old woman.
She should be safe at home.
In a warm bed, out of the cold.
Cuddling her grand children.
Her children should care for her.
But this is not her story.
Hers is one of struggle.
A struggle to survive daily.
Of being old and out in the cold.
She is one of many, many homeless.
Look into her eyes; see her fear.
Look at her wrinkles; know she is old.
Tell me, your heart doesn’t break?
By C.E. Pereira
(7-12-2018)
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