In the line up, for free food.
There was a old Indian lady in front of me.
Who reminded me of my mom.
I imagined she was alive.
Old, grey haired, alone,
standing in line for free food.
Just as she is.
And this twisting sorrow.
In the line up, for free food.
There was a old Indian lady in front of me.
Who reminded me of my mom.
I imagined she was alive.
Old, grey haired, alone,
standing in line for free food.
Just as she is.
And this twisting sorrow.