a foreign step shifts a pebble.

flashes of a man paralyze her and her daughter cries; he's found us.

a decrepit old man moves past her without so much as a look.

not one to fear but not one to help.

the streets sigh in tandem with her breath, as she crosses.

she intertwines her hands with her child's

to keep her safe.

she walks north, hoping for an escape.

drifitng from one slab of apathetic cement to another,

apathy is as familar to her as air

(ridden with the intoxicating smell of cheap perfumes).

how can I sit idly

when humans are being abused by their loved ones?

when children have no parents to look up to?

when millions of teenagers contemplate suicide every night?

with all the injustice in the world?

a social worker may not be able to fix every issue,

but this job could change my life

to change the lives of thousands of others.