A Bundle of Rags

A bundle of rags on the sidewalk- unseen, even though in plain sight. Invisible, hunched in the darkness, Invisible, even in light. What once was an object of beauty, intelligence, dignity, grace- Now lies in the grit of the city With hopelessness etched on her face And sores that ravish her body, and voices that scream in her head Telling her that she is crazy, Telling her that she is dead! She IS for the others around her, dead to their human touch, Feared by many who pass her And dreaded by many, for much- For it could be someone they once knew. It could be someone who was kin. It could be a stranger who's lost now. Or- it could be the person within. So look up ahead to the bus stop. Shift parcels and purses and bags. Pass swiftly along on the sidewalk. Don't look at the bundle of rags.