A Life Not Envied

Still, shivering origami

tucked in a corner,

Wet with tears,

clothed with the residue from your harsh words

sprinkled with the dust off your feet

battered by the concrete

skin cold and barbed

moisturized only by the evening dew

tanned too harshly by the morning sun

pillows of footprints rest below head

to ease now sore knuckles

the music of clinging coins play in ear

But she falls asleep to soon to hear them disappear