Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsListsHeartedHistoryMy WritingNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsListsHeartedHistoryMy WritingNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

The shrimp girl

by FennaCapelle

The sun had hid her warmth For a ragged girl with blistered feet That sold her ware with all her voice That begged for justice on the street And still she cried "buy here my goods" She was the sun, she wore her smile The world had ripped the rags she wore And only gazed a little while It gazed and gazed and soon forgot The cries, the tears the frail demand The light it took without remorse From this her garish suppliant And still she smiled for she knew well That streets have harboured yet so many No hope was lost, no word undone "Come buy my goods, t'is but a penny" But winter clenched its iron fist The seasons took the earth with ease And drew the line; the rich were warm The poor were famished by degrees Her voice died out, her cry was muffled still The curtain fell with little care Her final bow she took, one faint applause One last shrill cry; "come buy my ware" She had left the world a memory But the graveyard still is ignorant Of the life it took without remorse From this her loving suppliant
Request permission to use this poem
F
Written by
FennaCapelle
For You?
F
Written by
FennaCapelle
Published
Mar 9, 2021
Time
2m
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell FennaCapelle how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogSupportFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 [production] by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write