No One Knows

A poem

Drinking vessel proffered; grime-clogged nails Styrofoam rigid, white, static Stark against the dinginess of the stairwell Matted head, stooped, unseeing, bowed low In shame, disgust, distaste? No one knows

A penny, small and brown, sits alone Like its owner, isolated, hopeless Hunched on the stairwell, cold and hungry Shoppers bustle to and fro, heads bowed In shame, disgust, distaste? No one knows

A thousand pairs of feet must have passed Sneakers, brogues, stilettoed toes painted red Hurrying, scurrying. To where? No one knows A myriad of things to do, people to see Some choosing not to see what’s at their feet

Laughter tinkles around the bar, glasses chink A good day’s work in the city, well rewarded Fat cats dine, wine pours down their well-lubricated throats Outside, hunched on the stairwell, head bowed In shame, disgust, distaste? No one knows

Cut-glass, angular, high-rise and flying Multi-million dollar deals cut ice Solitary penny in the styrofoam cup Her Majesty’s profile glinting in the midday sun A London bus clogs the cloying grime to choking point

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