She had unkempt locks
A mixture of brown and black dreads
As long as they were
Planted on her head and ne’er bothered her
Her face was dull
Dark complexion her skin was
Her eyes soar;
And ugly she looked
Her clothes were in tatters
Many she blanketed herself in
Though from cold she felt safe
Her soul was naked
No companion, no relative
For the busy lots glanced at her
And stride away, no second look
By no means would they see
That beneath the animal looks
Was a living woman
She smoked and laid herself
On a spot she considered home
She was at peace with herself
And bothered not the passers-by
But often smiled to those who cared
To give her a second glance
Her life was just hers
And she did her role in guarding it
She ate and drank
And clothed her skin to live
All which reveal of her
The human being she hid in her
Now she is gone
And the spot is unusual
Like others she’s dead
And she cares not now
Her body be cremated or buried
Is upon the living to bother
The living who passed her by
Those who got irritated on seeing her
Those who pinched their nose
Not to catch stench from her body
And as she goes never to come back
And memories of her fade away
She was in all like them
Although praised on their death
They are buried and forgotten
Insignificant she was perceived
But this fact is irrefutable
Though madwoman, she was a woman
RIP mad woman
The world was never your place
Just like it’s not our place
