Treasure Island

Jesus James Llorico


Old Woman


My heart is filled with strain and sympathy
This picture that I never want to see
A loose feeling borne out of misery
When I looked on someone as frail as she

As she calmly gazed the camera lens
Beside the grass of the surrounding woods
A somber scene in a secluded dense
For an old woman of mere livelihood

A gloomy eyes with wrinkled hand and face
With a shred of cloth tied on her forehead
Hanging gray hair in brow that interlace
Wearing old garments cast in flowered beads

While she gently holds a sickle in hand
She slightly stooped on the weight of her back
She holds firmly with a string as she stand
The bundle of sticks behind like a pack

As I contemplate and looked more closely
In her eyes, I saw, a suffering heart
This woman who was deprived of plenty
To some, it's like life being torn apart

It's not the load on her back that I see
But a life of pain and adversity
The real truth that it can only be
A burden of poverty she carry

As to our life's daily and constant strife
To this old woman born of tragedy
And who have no power to enjoy life
To my God I ask why this mystery?

Submitted: Thursday, April 04, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, November 26, 2013

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