By D. R. DiFrancesco
~~
Squatting down in ragged jeans,
Trembling hands counting out small change,
Pennies, nickels and dimes his life’s savings,
Mumbling to himself,
Wondering if he had enough for a drink.
Scorching sun on the molten sidewalk,
His weathered face toughened to leather,
Aged far beyond his years,
What is his story,
People pass by ignoring his existence.
Cold water,
Sweat dripping from my fingertips,
Waiting to pay for my pleasure,
Mind drifting back to the poor man on the sidewalk,
What fate lies ahead for him.
He asked for nothing,
He should not have to ask for anything,
Should we not care without request,
Tears welled up in my eyes,
This could be me.
Food and drink,
Such a small price for a brother in need,
This could never be enough, still it was all I could do,
“Here you go friend”, as the pittance was offered,
“Thank you kindly”, his humble reply.
Dom DiFrancesco 
Leave a comment