At the red light….(straight from the heart)

I have given the shape of a poem to an article I wrote a few months ago..

Unkempt hair,
Shabby attire.
Roses to sell,
Ah! No buyers.

Vehicles to vehicles
She moves and pleads.
But to the eye feasting
Scavengers she feeds.

Hope-lit eyes
Tinged with despair.
Crooked smiles
She silently bears.

Heart soaked with pain
Asking for care.
If u have some
She is willing to share.

Drooped are her shoulders
Below the weight of the flowers.
Extremely fragile she is,
Against the Mammon’s power.

She shields the chilling winter
With torn clothes, hope ‘n’ disgust.
Lonely tears trickle down
As unwanted emotional outburst.

She taps the car’s window.
She touches their feet.
Mumbling words inconfidently when
She can clearly speak.

At last she approaches
The beautiful lady in the car.
Who off ‘n’ on look in the mirror
And assumes herself a star.

She pushes the bunch inside
And begs her to buy.
Trying to be too assertive
As if it’s her last try.

Thinking of her some scum
Lady pushes her on the ground
She falls ‘n’ roses get scattered,
Without the faintest sound.

Roses die beneath tyres,
As commuters zoom away.
They are short of time
And word to say.