Wither

Harsh rays of sunlight distort the thick slabs of asphalt,
Intrude upon every inch of her naked body
As she caters to the festering maggots
Tunneling through her brain.
Three days have gone by.
Her death pallor is gone,
Rigor mortem has set in
And nobody has come to claim her.
When people pass by
They step over her
But they never really see.
And as the years go by
She withers and turns to dust
And soon she is nothing more than
A stain on the sidewalk.
People pass by
And it’s business as usual
The world never knew she was gone.