Monday, July 17, 2006

Need Food

Four small kids
Sitting with you at the curb
Of my affluent suburb strip mall.
How could they know
They were pawns in your struggle?
Sacrificing their dignity
For handouts.
You know it
As I look in your eyes-
You know I can’t walk by
Those little faces unmoved.

You turn away, mumbling
A barely heard thank you
The kids eagerly offering to carry
Bags of groceries bigger than they are.
Will they ever see the
Four chocolate bars tucked inside?
I can’t give them back their pride.
Am I feeding the problem?

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?