The Followers! Poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi

I saw you there, talking to a girl,
She wore heavy make up with curls,
She might be terribly hungry for a bowl,
You didn't notice me watching in scroll,
Behind the pole near the busy stalls,
Which sell the head scarf for the mule,
The ointment for the recently cut sore,
The beads to count the sins of the souls,
Hardened copies of verses in velvet,
You talked to the girl who was fair,
The pinched nose never grew sharper,
Your eyes were stationed firmer,
The unbuttoned area of the wrapper,
You never noticed me closer,
That I watched from the corner,
When I saw you walking behind the woman,
As the follower to seek and hear the sermon,
I was broken into pieces as the old glass,
When you returned, you called for me,
Sought my forgiveness, stepping on a piece,
Of splint, looking at the bleeding wound,
Chasing away the beggar, who tried to help,
A child in her arms, ran away from your sight,
You were alone on the street, yet to have a bath,
You walked behind a woman for her treasures,
Returned with gifts that follow you as a cursor.