The Woman Without a Name

I met a stranger on the road
I think she heard me come her way,
She let me see what her soul showed
The secrets her eyes gave away.

She held my hand and a feeble voice
Broke through her tremorous lips,
She asked me to spare her something to eat,
If my pockets had something to give.

I looked inside my grocery bag
Filled with things I suddenly didn’t need,
My extravagance was my crowning shame
When she sought respite in me.

She sounded like she held sorrow reigned in
Held tightly on a leash,
A shadow haunted the surface
But Hunger took the lead.

She then asked me for some money
That would buy herself some tea,
And I told her the truth in painful honesty
That my wallet was absolutely empty.

She then confessed she couldn’t see
And secretly I was glad,
That she was shielded from the cruelty
Of seeing all the things I had.

I felt like a sinner in a Catholic Church
As I searched for words to explain,
That I would have bought her anything
Had I not spent it the other day.

She smiled at me, grateful
And thanked me for my generosity,
But the words she uttered next
Shattered the altruist in me.

Her words gnawed at my façade
As she took me off the higher ground,
“If I take this,” she innocently asked,
“What will you have to keep your hunger bound?”

I insisted that she take it
That I would be more than fine,
She thanked me again and then left me
With an unforgettable smile.

It went against the laws of my world
Where a person on the streets,
Would go the extra distance
To show some care for me.

Poverty has a choke hold
And it leaves without a trace,
My perspectives changed when the roles reversed
Because of a woman without a name.


4 thoughts on “The Woman Without a Name

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