Her clothes looking the worst for wear her straggly hair is gray
The poor old homeless lady I see her every day
Her worldly possessions she carries in a plastic bag she knows of real poverty
Yet she does not beg or borrow or look for sympathy.
Perhaps in her late sixties or early seventies maybe
Sitting alone on a park bench her I sometimes do see
A few times I said hello to her but she did not reply
She does not mix with people and she seems aloof and shy.
Why she must live as homeless I've often wondered why
What should be her right to live comfortable in her old age society her deny
Is she one who has children who for her does not care?
Everyone has a life story though her life story with none she share.
Did she have a drunken husband who her did often beat
Who caused her for to flee her home and live rough on the street
Or has she a mental illness which might go some way to explain
Why she walks with her plastic bag in the parkland in the rain.
So very much a loner to none she bids good day
In a fair and just society one should not have to live this way
Just a plastic bag full of old clothes she does not even have a mobile phone
To not feel sorry for her one would need a heart of stone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.