Will work for food.

A sign, written with a borrowed pen.

She didn't see,
she walked on, head down,
as if making eye contact
would engulf her in flames.

Black shadows and dark stains
in every alley, on every corner.

So accustomed to the pain,
we close our ears, minds and hearts.
Just don't make eye contact.

Change the channel.

I've got no time for this,
I'm going to have a walk with my dog....

I would rather throw it in the garbage.
I would rather be ignorant.

I have chosen to be silent,
sparing you the responsibility and me the pain,
of seeing another person
turn to stone.