No One Knows

Drinking vessel proffered; grime-clogged nails

Styrofoam rigid, white, static

Stark against the dinginess of the stairwell

Matted head, stooped, unseeing, bowed low

In shame, disgust, distaste? No one knows

A penny, small and brown, sits alone

Like its owner, isolated, hopeless

Hunched on the stairwell, cold and hungry

Shoppers bustle to and fro, heads bowed

In shame, disgust, distaste? No one knows

A thousand pairs of feet must have passed

Sneakers, brogues, stiletto shoes, scarlet red

Hurrying, scurrying. To where? No one knows

A myriad of things to do, people to see

Some choosing not to see what’s at their feet

Laughter tinkles around the bar, glasses chink

A good day’s work in the city, well rewarded

Fat cats dine, wine pours down their well-lubricated throats

Outside, hunched on the stairwell, head bowed

In shame, disgust, distaste? No one knows

Cut-glass, angular, high-rise and flying

Multi-million dollar deals cut ice

Solitary penny in the styrofoam cup

Her Majesty’s profile glinting in the midday sun

A London bus clogs the cloying grime to choking point

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This poem was first published on Medium, where you can find more of my work. Connect with me here: Rosy's Ramblings.