Fake, Flaky, or Forgetful?

They speak to you as if they've never spoken to you before. You remember the room, the lighting, the questions, the laughter and everyone else who was present there each time you had met before. They leave you flummoxed. They keep doing it again and gain. You keep smiling through it each time and reintroduce yourself, when spoken to the next time (again). They leave you perplexed. Close the door? Walk away? Stop smiling? Perhaps just decide to be kind. Yes, again.

''Illegal Workers''

Strewn about like discarded garbage,
Lined up like sticks under a tent,
Scattered around where ever land would allow them.
Human bodies with souls under duress,
Where to are they headed?
Their destinies remain awaiting a call to their fate.
Brought into this land by means unknown,
Doing day to day jobs and saving some for their own,
But now no more, for those doors are announced closed.
Lifeless bodies, lying in distressed fatigue,
Resting their bodies for another day of shrieks,
Hoping for their slate to get swiped clean.
Will they return home to better tomorrows?
Will they be able to make it with some dignity left?
Or will another loan shark take control of their debts?
Allahu musta’aan! Allahu musta’aan! Allahu musta’aan!
Allah is Whom we seek help from, Allah only can help!
May He bring ease to their state and situation;
Ameen.