Array ( [sid] => 171657 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => In the Early Traffic Hours [time] => 2012-04-02 08:11:45 [hometext] => There are those out there whose 'lifestyle' is quite unimaginable... [bodytext] =>
The signal turns red:
The traffic eventually comes to a standstill
On the wide avenue.
From the footpath emerges a frail young girl –
Eight, perhaps –
In ragged clothes and worn-out slippers,
With coarse skin;
Her infant brother tucked under one arm,
The other outstretched;
She taps the window of the nearest car:
Routinely expectant –
A careless shake of the head in reply.

On she moves,
Reiterating the clichéd words, and pleading;
But no response –
She could very well have not existed –
Now the girl persists
And gets rebuked by the irritated driver
For she repeatedly
Touched his car with her dirty little hands.
She jerks away
And hurries on towards a 4x4,
Gets onto her toes
Merely to be visible from within the front w—
The signal is green again.
The vehicles surge forward and honk her way
Onto the same footpath:
It’s a usual start to another long day.

The apathy…
A helpless child treated so cruelly –
But were she rich,
She would’ve been admired for her fine hair
Or the deep eyes.
Is it her fault then that she’s born
Deprived, destitute,
Twice below the poverty line?


[comments] => 1 [counter] => 98 [topic] => 21 [informant] => ammar [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - In the Early Traffic Hours


In the Early Traffic Hours
Date: Monday, 2nd April 2012 @ 08:11:45 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: ammar

The signal turns red:
The traffic eventually comes to a standstill
On the wide avenue.
From the footpath emerges a frail young girl –
Eight, perhaps –
In ragged clothes and worn-out slippers,
With coarse skin;
Her infant brother tucked under one arm,
The other outstretched;
She taps the window of the nearest car:
Routinely expectant –
A careless shake of the head in reply.

On she moves,
Reiterating the clichéd words, and pleading;
But no response –
She could very well have not existed –
Now the girl persists
And gets rebuked by the irritated driver
For she repeatedly
Touched his car with her dirty little hands.
She jerks away
And hurries on towards a 4x4,
Gets onto her toes
Merely to be visible from within the front w—
The signal is green again.
The vehicles surge forward and honk her way
Onto the same footpath:
It’s a usual start to another long day.

The apathy…
A helpless child treated so cruelly –
But were she rich,
She would’ve been admired for her fine hair
Or the deep eyes.
Is it her fault then that she’s born
Deprived, destitute,
Twice below the poverty line?




This poem is Copyright © ammar


Important note: ALL POETRY ON THIS SITE IS COPYRIGHT.
If you wish to use any poem for any purpose, please either EMAIL Mick from
the sites feedback form, or go to the AUTHOR'S site and EMAIL the author for permission.
If you Email Mick for permission on any poem that is not his personal works,
he will endeavor to contact the author on your behalf.

This poem comes from Your Poetry Dot Com
https://www.your-poetry.com/

The URL for this poem is:
https://www.your-poetry.com/route.php?page=poetry/PoemDetail&story_id=171657