A curtain of hair affords invisibility to the young girl
Coupled with a shy demeanour and lack of height,
She was unremarkable, unnoticable.
She stands; a lonely statue in a constantly flowing stream of people.
They step around her as if she is not there,
Jostling her carelessly, with no concern for this silent, motionless child.
Tears well in her eyes and plunge, headfirt, into the concrete.
Not a single person even registers her presence.
When did we become too busy to comfort an crying child?
To nurture innocence?
To care for our future?
It is too late for this child, cynicism holds her in his icy grip.