She passed by like a dark blob on abstract figure
A broom in her hand conscious to make her absence
As I took the stairs to a day of hope and dreams
Her descent with an apology for an untold offence
Myriads of faces that make up our days
Trying to smile with nothing in return
Their pain, their background and destined lives
Living on the fringes of realities of harsh world
Countless outcaste beings make up and touch our lives
Hoping you to pick up at the corner a flower fine
Or sweeping aside to make a carpet for you to walk on
Pulling a heavy cart or making your shoes shine
They too have a dream an ambition, a hope to further
Pause we could for they bring life to cheer
The unknown, the challenged a relentless struggle
To make their dark blob to be seen on their abstract figures
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem