My first published poem at John Carroll University
Baglady
Everyday I see her hunched in the corner,
legs crossed and arms holding her life's possessions.
Everyday people pass, not saying a word.
Eyes glancing and not acknowledging,
bodies marching all accordingly,
like robots to wherever they have to go.
There she sits motionless without a stir.
Yesterday I did not see her, nor today.
That lady with her stained white cotton hat,
brown skirt, black holey stockings, tan down coat,
grimy crinkly brown skin and bitten nails
with her head down, and her arms tightly around
a life that once was; where had she gone?
I stopped, and thought that for a second. Then I
rushed to wherever I had to go, just like everybody else.
by Shabazz Malik
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