It Has Not Come to Pass



A staunch, pudgy body.
One hand on her hips, the other
Wiping her dusty, wrinkle-ridden face
With a frayed shawl. Her back
Bent with the weight
Of everything she’s carried
Throughout the day.
Throughout the years. In fact,
Her whole body seems slouched to the ground.

But her eyes.

Her eyes look up
Across the road
At the high rise apartments
Behind a tall, guarded gate.

Her expression = unreadable.
Her whole body sinks further down.





Poetry by Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 8 times
Written on 2026-06-17 at 18:21

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mickeko The PoetBay support member heart!
A hard life with little more reward than fleeting moments of joy (my mind can't bare to deny her that). I'm not going to lie, she deserved better. Not in prose, this is perfect, but in life.
2026-06-17