Among scattered refuse she rocks on her bench
Cursing at people who frown at he stench.
She tilts her head backward and catches the breeze,
Then examines and scratches her scab-layered knees.

On a corner nearby leans a derelict man
Who scrounges a lunch in an overfilled can.
Engrossed in his effort, he simply ignores
The pain and the itch of his fast-festering sores.

Below the cruel surface of this urbanized street,
She roams through the subway in spite of the heat.
Ashamed of the holes that have covered her dress,
She cries silent tears in muffled distress.

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