I see him now, as I walk up, <br />in between the shopping stores, <br />and the cafés that litter the pavement ahead. <br /> <br />A man, nay, a boy, in his luminous orange vest, <br />with those three words: The Big Issue. <br />I hear his cry; 'Big Issue Sir? No? Have a nice day' <br />'Big issue madam? Your ok, have a nice day' <br /> <br />It makes me sick to my stomach, <br />to think that flesh and blood, <br />could be so ignorant and uncaring. <br />You can hear them as they go, muttering, <br />'Tsk, must be a druggie', or, 'it's their own fault'. <br /> <br />He sees me approach, and asks me, <br />'Nah thanks mate, I'm ok', I say. <br />Then I stop a few feet away, <br />The rain begins to pour down, <br />and this boy, is stood in it, <br />trying to make some money for food. <br /> <br />How could i be so heartless? <br />I run over to him, and hand him £2. <br />His face beams with a smile, <br />I think i may be his first customer today, <br />he dives in his change bag, and i stop him, <br />'It's ok mate, keep the change'. <br /> <br />He looks at me, with that look that people do, <br />as though i had given him the greatest thing in the world, <br />when to me, it was nothing. <br />I guess, even the little things matter when your on your own... <br /> <br />So next time you pass a homeless person, <br />stop and think, could you live rough? <br />Without the comforts of home, <br />without the luxuries that money brings...<br /><br />Steve Armstrong<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/big-issue/
