Yester tears

You walked in. Face butted, dusty, dirty; needy. Your hands stretched out, reaching to someone, a ‘Good Samaritan’, for that extra coin that is malingering in their able pockets; what they do not know is that that coin coins out your life.

And you stood there, waiting, wanting; needing. Some gave, someone didn’t.

But someone said something, or they didn’t. But they ripped you apart, injuring your already broken heart; hurting you.

That’s when the diamonds fell. You cried. As if dreading what awaits. ‘How can they not see?’ you probably asked. ‘Don’t they know am in this life not because I want to, but because I have to?’ ‘And now you make me cry.. I know I am thousands of steps behind, but why leave me in my own perish? Why not save me from this animal called life?’

You walked in again, trying not to sink in the depth of your tears. You quickly wiped the gems from your cheeks, those gems that they didn’t see.

Again, did your rounds, stretched your hand. Some clutched their bags, others saw your ghost. She then came, held you apparently oblivious of your filth.

She gently but firmly escorted you out, saying you had had enough. Taking one look at us before your exit, as if to catch a glimpse of what ‘life’ supposedly looks like.

Then off you went, swallowed into the pit of the night, the dark streets aligned with other walking forms of life.

I stared at you as you disappeared. And in my mind you were blackened out too. But I felt this hanging cloud over me; I just couldn’t tell what it was. Then it dawned to me, when I told your story to another.

It was you. My heart went out to you, and I didn’t see that coming.

And now almost 15hours after that priceless spectacle, I still see you.

Clearly.

I remember your face.

I see your eyes.

I see your strife.

I hurt silently from afar, for you, with you.

I just wish I would have capture yester’s tears. Somehow.

Just for you.

Then maybe you wouldn’t cry.

Maybe yester’s tears might have been a façade.