The Circus Poem by Ibrahim Bidu

As she sadly sits

Or so it seems,

Hands outstretched

Pleading with the wave

Of unfeeling humanity;

Another lies prostate

A placard for a blanket

Soiled bandage covering the stumps

In the place of legs

Attempting to squeeze

The remnants of feelings

From an otherwise drained place;

As yet from a short distance away

Comes a sharp wail

Bearing all trace of distress

Competing with the grunts

Of a creature that seemed out of place

In a maddening race

To get the attention

Of faces tense,

A shield from the unfeeling world

And maybe a wish

To exchange places

With the wailing and begging crowd

If only their pride allows:

And the circus continues

With no hint of approaching the end