Isolated Mornings

I missed my mom's aching knee,
didn't notice my dad's lower back pain
and missed my sister's repressed turmoil

I didn't notice the bright smile
of the night security guard
still active from a night of sleeplessness.

I missed the little kid walking to school
crying for he had lost his favourite book
another being pulled by her arm
by a concerned mother
and yet another enjoying the morning breeze
on her dad's bike.

Didn't notice the bruises
on the woman down the street
as she attempted to hide them
from the beatings last night

I missed the cheerful banter
of the young vagabound
as he blissfully began
yet another day of nothingness

Sped past the busy food stall
where many an early worker
gobbled his breakfast
and the quite teeange girl
who packed her and her brother's lunch
not having a mother to cook

Didn't watch the kids
playing with rotting flowers
at their mom's stall
discovering new patterns
in a discarded pile

Looked away
from the hurried domestic help
attempting to reach her job
while struggling to keep
her mind off a poorly husband

Didn't notice the flight of pigeons
and the playful duel of the mongrels

Neither did I hear the Azaan
Nor the cacophony of the kids at school
sounds of the morning
that could have warmed my soul

So much this morning offered
and so little I received.
Isolated mornings
in a busy city
of a busy mind