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The Fading Colors of the Nameless
by Jared OrlandoThe garments seem to just
Shed off her body when she
Boarded the evening train and was
Met with awkward glances
Spending most of her times on corners
Begging, waiting for a shiny dime and
Maybe one boy could give her something
Because her bags are always empty
I swear you count all of her bones and
Maybe this is what she wants because
She smiles just the same no matter penny
Quarter dollar sliver of pointless paper
Teeth that amount to nothing and
Hair so dirty and broken
Her skin mirrors her face and
Everything’s a cycle
It’s the subway to the corner store
From the mission to the graveyard shift
In front of a bakery or drain, no matter
Her hands are always empty even when they
Are clearly full it’s her mirages that
Keep her pleading and dust
Dust. Dusty dreams, thoughts
Everything is just filthy and soiled and
A clean clear thought sends her back to
Grime and unclean wanting hands
Why must a fulfilling life depend on such shine
On such crucial gleaming tokens
Lives backed by gold and an overflowing wallet
Happiness has a price
And she just cannot afford it
03/18/2009 Posted on 03/19/2009
Copyright © 2024 Jared Orlando
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 03/19/09 at 03:10 AM Breakneck speed and quite chaotic to boot, but that's definitely what makes this piece so much fun to read, absorb. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 03/19/09 at 12:58 PM A tragic picture of how so many live. A since we tend to live in the moment we forget when the pictures are no longer on the evening news. We blot it out or turn to a different radio station. We need not to forget. Well done Jared! |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 03/19/09 at 05:14 PM George is right. What we cannot bear to see, we just change the channel or turn the page. The last 2 lines were outstanding! GREAT write- good food for thought! |
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