Camouflage

By Shreya

 All my life,

 I’ve been here

 trying to earn a living,

 barely succeeding

 in a land

 I’m supposed to call mine.

I claim some kinship

 to its nooks and corners,

 but on the busiest street,

 I recognize so little.

When days are good,

 people notice

 I sell enough

 and buy bread.

When they’re not,

 I survive.

Sometimes I wonder:

 Did I dream of this?

 And if not,

 did I ever dream at all?

I seldom my thoughts

 I witness everything around

 while no one witnesses me.

Helpless,

 I blend

 into the walls

 of old buildings,

 camouflaged

 by time.

By Shreya