words Breah Zaman
Illustration Sheku Nafisi
Her lips are cracked, her hair is knotted, and her heart is burnt
She lurks in the shadows, smoking—a habit recently learnt
She has no place to call home
Her family and origins left back in Rome
She was once happy, loved, and cared for
Diamonds, velvet, and suede she once wore
Now, in her eyes you can see the entire shore
She is humble and of good character
She’ll deeply smile when your eyes suddenly meet
So very kind, but she still lives on the street
That makes her “unwanted,” “unneeded,” “unworthy,”
She’s not worth helping they say, “I hope she sees a better day.”
Drugs ruined her life they believe
Yet the only one she’s ever taken is ‘Aleve’
She roams the street without a penny to spare
Dating a boy that just doesn’t care
She wears a long red sweatshirt
Not showing that she’s been hurt
Boy, what a time to live
Too caught up—they forget to give
I notice her fingernails painted a smooth red
It’s the color of the devil my mother once said
Yet, I think she looks more like J-Lo
Just yesterday, I swear I saw her halo
I know damn well she can play a beautiful song
She has a musician’s fingers—bony and long
I look at her and can’t help but wonder, where did it all go wrong?
There’s something each of us can do
But you don’t care—thankful its not you
I pass by stores and catch my reflection
Smash!—I’m hit with a perception
Things really happen in a flash
Stay awak— your life too could crash
We all wish for things to get better
For the good things to just stay forever
If that was you …your ideal, people scurry and flee?
Walk right by, pretend they didn’t see?
The lady in red,
She’s quite a sight to see
Look. Just take a look.
“Oh she has no more importance than the scab on my knee!”
But—isn’t she just like you and me?
