The Aa Poh

She sat there, sketching
While I was standing
And people walked past
Unruffled, as if pretending

She sat there, a cloth laid out
Held down by a few cents sitting
On it with a few notes lying here and there
While she remained stooped on her drawing

Shriveled structure, eyes longing
For the times when she was young
And important, but now only a shadow
When once she too was vibrant and strong

Now all alone, I guess
And no one to help, or offer any
As we all remained aloof
To her troubles and obscurity
And she continued sketching
While we breezed past her silently

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