Homeless.
Pale blue eyes look up at the night sky littered with clouds, and then back down to the surrounding area. It’s so cold that the wind chills the bones of the children walking home; everyone can see their breath before them. The owner of the blue eyes is left alone, just another face in the crowd. But if there is one difference between this person and the others, it’s that this lone person has no warm coat, just a ratty and torn up shawl, a dirty shirt and jeans, fingerless gloves, shoes and socks (both with holes in them) and a warn-out toboggan, and a few other personal belongings. This person has no home, no warm shelter to run to.
The homeless, nameless, faceless person walks slowly with their head down, hands rubbing together. The busy city that never sleeps or slows down is just muffled background noise, the soundtrack to this person’s life. People walk by and never acknowledge the homeless traveler. These are the people that cannot face humanity in its rawest form, who fear giving away too little and too much, so they choose to not give at all.
The lone traveler blinks as it begins to snow. It would be another bitter cold night. They find a bridge and crawl underneath it, pulling out a pen and paper. There is a lamppost nearby that provides enough light for the person to write.
It is another bitter night;
People walk by,
I am never in their sight.
They look right at me
But they only see one thing:
Homeless
To them, I am neither a man nor a woman.
To them, I am the faceless stranger.
I am the homeless.
I represent the poorest of this city.
I represent the lowest class.
I am the homeless.
I am the poor.
I am humanity’s greatest fear,
Humanity’s greatest weakness
.
One of the problems that I see in the world is identity. People classify others as dangerous because of their mental state, the color of their skin, their religion, their social status. If they don’t believe that that specific race or religion is safe, they simply do not wish to acknowledge their presence at all; out of sight, out of mind, and therefore nonexistent. The fact that in my story the character has no identity (except blue eyes) is meant to represent the insecurities of humanity. This anonymous view is how everyone sees the homeless and the poor. They are just faces. They have no names and no identity; they are just a group called the “poor” and the “homeless”. Therefore, you choose not to help them. If this person had a face and a name, and it was your family member or friend, you would be more likely to help them than if this were a stranger.
If only people would see everyone as a friend rather than an enemy, the world would be better off. If only everyone could look past the surface and more in depth, most people would not be in a poor situation. Not everyone is a threat; take down your guard and help save someone from poverty.