That damn kid

Sweet lads on the street
come at me
let me sing you a story
the story of that kid.

That kid with a torn cloth
That kid who shared food
That kid who knew no happiness
That kid who shed no tears
That kid whose name never known

That damn kid now is a dead meat,
on the street, lay cold and fresh.
Crows fed on his meat and
men fed on his change.

1 comment:

  1. Really like how such a strong issue is targeted with such a simple poem. The description about 'that kid' is very minimal, yet it portrays a very powerful story of his hardships and how end was not any better than his life.

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