The Walk
One day during my morning stroll I took an unexpected turn
Whereupon I came to an alley
Down which I had never traveled before.
I decided this day to take this new path
Through the streets of a city I had roamed daily for the past ten years.
I knew not what to expect on this day,
And so I was filled with an uneasy excitement.
Curiosity overcame the voice that begged me to be cautious,
And I entered the back world of a parallel existence with a ***** anticipation.
As I walked - I was greeted by a sea of lifeless faces,
Hollow eyes that saw no past and looked to no future.
Sad were the fragile bodies that walked these alleyways
Covered in ragged and tattered clothing.
And a distinct smell of unwash lingered in the air,
Which seemed to them to be quite natural –
Which I found quite odd.
A scruffy man lying on a bed of boxes reached out to me
And I, content on my stroll, flinched only briefly to notice
A seemingly broken soul looking to me as I passed --
I wondered, “Was he once full of dreams of a beautiful life?”
Now lying in a bed of boxes, crushed under life’s thumb.
And as these strangers looked upon me,
A voice (I knew not from where) begged me to help them.
Pain and sadness lived in those eyes which looked upon me -
And inside I felt a twinge of guilt,
As if by having some bit of privilege,
I myself had lain them there
To look upon me with their desperate eyes.
In those moments, as I walked, viewing the withering bodies
Lying in the gutters of darkened alleyways
A picture was forever burned into my soul
And I began to feel hope.
Copyright February 2005
Copyright © Pamela Russell | Year Posted 2005
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