Walking home from the job I keep, <br />In this downtown city we call civilized, <br />I feel as if I’m the only one with eyes, <br />Unobstructed so to see the truth of matters. <br />There to the side of the overcrowded walk, <br />In an alley littered with the suffering, <br />Sits the small child dealt this hardship. <br />His hair matted, uncut and dirty. <br />His cloth about the same, torn and small. <br /> <br />He shouldn’t be there, sad and alone, <br />At home with a warm loving family, <br />In a beautiful house with luxuries, <br />With a yard, and dog as a loyal friend. <br />That’s the place where he should reside, <br />Not this crime filled, busy city street. <br />He’s too young to know this truth. <br />How the world cannot cope anymore <br />With everybody’s living for the “me”. <br /> <br />I walk to him there to the side of the trash, <br />Offer him my denim jacket off my back, <br />So he doesn’t freeze in the months ahead, <br />Give him the left over lunch I ‘bout chunked. <br />I stay a while; watch him take these little gifts, <br />And look to me with the sorrowful eyes <br />Of an innocent child’s soul in this pain. <br />It’s not fair to him to live this way. <br />He didn’t ask to be born unto this poverty. <br /> <br />It seem so unfair, that if he survives this <br />He will be just like the blood that created him. <br />Without having the parents to show him right, <br />He will learn the wrong, and fill the population <br />With more of the sinful crime and poverty, <br />Completing a never-ending cycle that multiplies, <br />Filling the world with more of that kind. <br />When will we ever wake up and learn the lesson, <br />That a “me world” inevitably ends with death.<br /><br />Britney Hogue<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-me-world/
