walking through the town,

i see her:

the girl with no shoes

her hands, caked with mud

legs, scratched and bruised

face, more scarlet than white,

badly sunburnt by the wrath of the relentless sun

as she squats next to the sidewalk,

hopeful

the neighborhood kids pass by

as they always do

their taunting jeers ricochetting through the street

their laughter rises up like a tsunami 

the girl with no shoes

doesn’t look away

indignance sparks

in her gray eyes

like clouds massing before a tremendous thunderstorm

she stands up

on her filthy, scratched feet

and opens her mouth

her words

will leave a permanent scar

in all of our memories

i know

because i was one of them

i know

because i joined in on their taunts

i know

because it was my reflection

i saw in the girl’s stormy gray eyes

as she stands up

on her scraped and broken feet

her physical injuries were no match

for the power of her voice

and her gaze didn’t waver

from any of us

as she stared each and every one of us in the eyes:

“just because i have 

empty pockets

doesn’t mean

 i have an empty mind.

your shoes don’t determine your worth

and you can say that

because you aren’t one of us.

you don’t have to sleep on the floor

you don’t have to roam in the wild

you don’t have to fend for yourselves.

all you can do is put down those who are lower than you.

but i have something you will never understand

thank goodness for my wounds

they’re beautiful to those who care.

i’m happy just the way i am.”

my thoughts unfocused

and i could only stare at her retreating back, moving

farther

and

farther

away

my unsaid apologies still hanging in the air

as i realize what i’ve done

in her eyes

i will always be the villain

the bully

as my friends walk away

rolling their eyes

still laughing and jeering,

i stand still on the spot

rooted to the ground by the words of the girl with no shoes.

even today

i am still the bully in her eyes

even today

i can never apologize

even today

i know that i am the reason

behind her stormy gray eyes

even today

i know that i was part of what had happened,

an invisible permanent mark

that would stay stand still,

centuries after,

entrenched and clawing at my soul

a permanent mark of a reminder

of what had happened

forever.

even today

i ask myself:

is this really true happiness?