Today in the hallway I was thinking
Thinking and talking aloud
I was quite aware of my display
One that drew comical expressions
So beautifully on faces that passed
But they were not my concern
They scarcely could be
I had seen a homeless orphan that day
And talked a bit with him
His name was Ibro
Actually Ibrahim but he said Ibro
And I loved the child
Under his dirt and ragged clothes
I could draw the perfect figure
The figure of my dream unborn son
There is nothing I could have done
Than part with a few notes
Which will never be enough
Ah, back to the hallway
These people must think
Think I am mad
But No
I'm only pained
That Ibro will starve again tonight
While you and I eat
He, no, they
Others of his kind
Will sleep under a bridge tonight
While we complain of trivial issues
How the bloodsucking things disturb
But then again back to the hallway
I git up and smile
I say to myself
Wherever you are
Just be good,Ibro.
Your good. Keep it up. More greese
ReplyDeleteThanks for the support.
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