Your Poetry Dot Com

Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!

Poems On Site: 198,500+ Comments On Poems: 427,000+ Forum Posts: 105,000+

Custom Search


Welcome !	Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link	29-June 17:55:55 AEST

Menu

· Our eBay Store

· Error Submit

Poetry

· Submit Poetry

· Least Read Poems

· Members Listing

· Old Site Post 2001

· Old Site Pre 2001

· Poetry Archive

· Public Domain Poetry

Stories

· Stories (NEW ! )

· Submit Story

· Story Topics

· Stories Archive

· Story Search

Community

· Our Poetry Forums

· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

Site Help

· FAQ

· Feedback

Members Areas

· Your Account

· Members Journals

· Premium Sign-Up

Premium Section

· Special Section

· Premium Poems

· Premium Submit

· Premium Search

· Premium Archive

· Premium Topics

Fun & Games

· Jokes

· Bubble Puzzle

· Cross Word Easy

· Word Hunt

Reference

· Dictionary (Rhyming)

· Site Updates

· Special Content

Search

Top

Help This Site

· Donations

Others

· Moderators

Our Other Sites

· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

Social

Array ( [sid] => 171657 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => In the Early Traffic Hours [time] => 2012-04-02 08:11:45 [hometext] => There are those out there whose 'lifestyle' is quite unimaginable... [bodytext] =>
The signal turns red:
The traffic eventually comes to a standstill
On the wide avenue.
From the footpath emerges a frail young girl –
Eight, perhaps –
In ragged clothes and worn-out slippers,
With coarse skin;
Her infant brother tucked under one arm,
The other outstretched;
She taps the window of the nearest car:
Routinely expectant –
A careless shake of the head in reply.

On she moves,
Reiterating the clichéd words, and pleading;
But no response –
She could very well have not existed –
Now the girl persists
And gets rebuked by the irritated driver
For she repeatedly
Touched his car with her dirty little hands.
She jerks away
And hurries on towards a 4x4,
Gets onto her toes
Merely to be visible from within the front w—
The signal is green again.
The vehicles surge forward and honk her way
Onto the same footpath:
It’s a usual start to another long day.

The apathy…
A helpless child treated so cruelly –
But were she rich,
She would’ve been admired for her fine hair
Or the deep eyes.
Is it her fault then that she’s born
Deprived, destitute,
Twice below the poverty line?

[comments] => 1 [counter] => 98 [topic] => 21 [informant] => ammar [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )

In the Early Traffic Hours

Contributed by ammar on Monday, 2nd April 2012 @ 08:11:45 AM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems

The signal turns red:
The traffic eventually comes to a standstill
On the wide avenue.
From the footpath emerges a frail young girl –
Eight, perhaps –
In ragged clothes and worn-out slippers,
With coarse skin;
Her infant brother tucked under one arm,
The other outstretched;
She taps the window of the nearest car:
Routinely expectant –
A careless shake of the head in reply.

On she moves,
Reiterating the clichéd words, and pleading;
But no response –
She could very well have not existed –
Now the girl persists
And gets rebuked by the irritated driver
For she repeatedly
Touched his car with her dirty little hands.
She jerks away
And hurries on towards a 4x4,
Gets onto her toes
Merely to be visible from within the front w—
The signal is green again.
The vehicles surge forward and honk her way
Onto the same footpath:
It’s a usual start to another long day.

The apathy…
A helpless child treated so cruelly –
But were she rich,
She would’ve been admired for her fine hair
Or the deep eyes.
Is it her fault then that she’s born
Deprived, destitute,
Twice below the poverty line?

Copyright Â© ammar ... [ 2012-04-02 08:11:45]
(Date/Time posted on site)

Advertisments:

Previous Posted Poem | | Next Posted Poem

Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more

All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.

Re: In the Early Traffic Hours (User Rating: 1 )
by unknown_utopia on Sunday, 18th September 2016 @ 07:50:06 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

sad but true
some humans always judge and demean the ones
who are in need and it is shame,
well done.

While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. Â©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright Â© to their submitter. All the rest Copyright Â© 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com