Yesterday, he begged me for money
When I was broke.
Today, I saw him eating
Morbidly, than food, I smelled
I began to question:
Where is the government?
Where are the philanthropists?
Where are the psychiatrists?
That this man is a castaway!
The ones they care for
Are the ones that will favour them?
But this man, walking homelessly,
He is a child of a father
And would have been a father
Of a son, if managed accomplishing.
He lives in the open place,
Bitten by sun, tormented by depression
And mocked by brats,
Is he not a son of a father?
His stained look horrible and naked.
I was mentally challenged to assist
But was broke when I wanted to assist.
Can you assist my voice from there?
« return.