Is Anybody Listening?

I speak for those who cannot speak,
voiceless shadows consigned to
the misery of non-existence,
the “look the other way” people,
invisible forms selling newspapers
on every corner, the “trash people”
pushing that stolen shopping cart
to their camp in the mesquite grove
behind the Burger Shack, the sign-holders:
“I’ll work for food” and always accompanied
by a sleeping baby or a skinny dog.

Are they not allowed to speak?
Must they be silent?
No, but who listens?
They are minor distractions to the
NPR station on the car radio,
phantoms of our social failures,
and they will never go away.
They will forever look at us through
clouded eyes, and we will forever
look through them, as if they were not there.

I speak for those who cannot speak.
Is anybody listening?