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Standing On The Side Of The Road

"Standing On The Side Of The Road"

I am standing here on the side of the road - 
Trying desperately not to be seen
It is the middle of your busy day
You do not notice me with your latte
Guarding against the cold wind-
Frozen inside outside walking here and there
No mansion or house to put my belongings, no one to care-
I am standing here on the side of the road-
Not the trash you just tossed away
That latte and uneaten muffin, my only meal today
Standing here, shivering in the city alone
No one to shelter and love me in the biting cold
You are busy, I know, but see me please
Life is not pleasurable or one of simple ease
I once had a home and a family too
Rushed through life, busy like you
Forgotten and discarded in the corner cafe
Wishing for more than your morning latte
My only hope, made it last all day
Trying hard not to be in anyone's way
Standing on the side of the road
It is where I live, where I grow old
Please remember when you rush by
That in my eyes are dreams as I cry-
There is more to me than what you see
If you are not careful, you can be me.

Copyright 1/3/13 by Tayé Foster Bradshaw Marketing & Communications Group®

Used with permission. Photographic Copyright 1/2/13 by Carl Edward Helenkamp III of Endless Moments Photography LLC, https://www.facebook.com/carl.e.helenkamp

Comments

Anonymous said…
Very sweet and moving.
Dana said…
Sweet poem. It makes you think.
Laura Lee said…
You present so well the dichotomy of trying not to be seen and yet desperately wanting to be noticed. We are indeed just one false step from that woman's plight; it's the thought that crosses my mind whenever I encounter a homeless soul.
Diana England said…
A very moving poem. I found the last line shocking. A powerful ending.
Unknown said…
That's a nice work sister, the worst part is that if all billionaires could fill their empty mansions, wings and appartments , there wouldn't be something like homelessness, I like it.

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Tayé Foster Bradshaw is the poet's nom de plumme. She resides in a suburb of St. Louis surrounded by her family, her books, her pens, and her lattes.

This poem is inspired by the lives and burdens of many women, particularly women of color, who are forced to carry the cares, thoughts, and expectations of others without regard to their own wants, needs, and health. This poem is a release.




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©2016. Tayé Foster Bradshaw Group, Antona Smith. All Rights Reserved.

Bridges used to scare me as a little girl. In the town where I grew up, in order to get from my neighborhood over to the swimming pool or summer activities, we walked. I was always fine until we reached the crest of the hill and that looming structure that connect roads-to-roads, over cars zooming beneath, promising me opportunity on the other side, if I just trusted the weight of my tiny skinny nine-year-old self against the wind blowing or the sun streaming over this manmade steal structure.  My l…

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It rained this afternoon

Loud claps of thunder

Almost couldn't see the rain

For my tears falling down

Black Mama Tears

too many

dying

in their sleep

on a run

at a store

too many

stopped

just walking

just working

just breathing

It rained today

And I couldn't see

for all the weeping

of

Black

Mamas.