A young girl watches others at play, desperate for them to notice her and invite her to join in, but she is a carer with her grandmother and no time for play.
She stands there, watching
in the wings. Her limbs long and gangly
Like a new born colt
Eyes so dark and wide
like those of a startled fawn
Hidden partly by the dense dark leaves of the bush
Almost willing the others to see her
Yet wishing to remain hidden
Wanting to play ball with them
But too nervous and shy to join in
Silently wanting to be part of the group
The other children, oblivious to their audience,
Play noisily in the shade,
splashing in the pool
Their endless chatter a stark contrast to this one.
Then, the harsh voice of the grandmother
Calls the girl to do her bidding
The moment is gone, the child turns away
Sadness etched on her gaunt face
No play, games are not for her
Her life lies in caring for the old woman
Fetching and carrying,
providing company.
Young caring for old,
This lonely old child
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