In hands hardened with
Hunger, struggle, and poverty
Of all kinds,
She clutched bundles of
Fragrant, delicate roses,
Her beauty hidden behind
A torn dupatta,
The light turned from yellow to red
The other girls by her side rushed
To crowd around cars
While she simply sat unmoving
Face turned away
While I wished I could take a picture,
Because her silent figure needed

Something more than words,
Something deeper, more colorful
Than words
To illustrate her black and white story