Tell me, your heart doesn’t break?

autumn

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)

Author: cepcarol

I'm a Eurasian of Portuguese, English, Scottish and Malay heritage. And my extended family are of Chinese and Indian heritage. In recent years, the younger generation have added on to include spouses from the Philippines, Nigeria and Russia. My world is made up of different colours like the rainbow. And like the rainbow I am unique. Reading is my form of relaxation, to escape from the drudgery of daily life and enter into a world of the imagination. It is the love of reading that has led me to try my hand in writing short stories and poems. I hope that in some way my stories and poems will take you for a little while away from the drudgery of the present into the pages of imagination. To new friends found, I bid you, Welcome. Sincerely, C.E. Pereira View All Posts