Broom not bloom

Thu, 10/10/2019 - 07:27 -- Mahiks

Once came in my way

a small helpless boy

with a broom in hand

Not a book or toy

Jeans rugged and old

His shirt had holes

Was in an uproar

A one less hope

Tiny little hands

Dull crying eyes

Screaming yet shut lips

Skin brittle and dry

Looked up to me

With a tear in his eye

He kept mum

But I heard his outcry

I was up in the bus

And in foot he stood

Willing to be like us

If he could!

I saw him for a while

Then my bus passed by

But he was still in my sight

And it made me realise

There are many out there

Alike as him

None to care,

Living near bins

I saw many others before

But never thought his way

A better life to them,

My only pray

The following day,

I searched him on street

For unknown reasons,

I wanted to meet

I couldn't do much,

I know!

He was just like us,

I wanted to show

I tried to help all I can

But my bad!

I never saw him again

*this poem is originally published on the poet's blog

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world

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