She sits down, weary; heart, already, gnarled. A day, outside, under the heat of the sun-- against the hostile stares, of passersby and relentless traffic aides; the everyday pursuit, of a few coins, to buy daily sustenance. With her withered smile and yielding demeanor, she tries to cajole passing youngsters--office yuppies, with their corporate coats, roguish skirts, and barely-there make ups-- to partake of her paltry offerings: candies, cigarettes, and stories. Then, she comes home, to her children: demanding her of food --thin tummies, left starving, the whole day; while she goes out, to work. Her, forgetting her own hunger; just to keep her children, alive. And, her grandkids. Walking, finding an old woman-- still working, selling cigarettes and candies. Chatted with her a bit. Finding out her story. Made it into a poem. We think, that our lives, are too difficult; yet, there are those who have it worse. #old #oldwoman #work #life #yqbaba
