coffee, ​please

 

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clay mugs

cold shrugs

many miles

no friendly smiles

muddy stairs

nobody cares

for the man with no six-pack

or a shirt on his bruised back

just colorless tears tricking down his white cheeks

people rush from the sky train onto the streets

our eyes meet

hearts beat

i give a cup of coffee

a plain croissant with no toffee

he bites his snack and his trembling lips

takes a few sips

as i walk away

done with the kind deed for the day

he sits on the cold concrete floor with young aching bones 

remembering the years when he laughed and played eating blue ice cones

i sip my assam tea and eat my toast as sunday morning rolls in

i hope he was warm last night and gets to sleep in

and when he wakes up soon

brunch will be served for him at noon

multigrain bagel with avocado and whipped cream cheese

a cup of hot coffee and a gentle afternoon breeze

for none of us is without honour

everyone deserves to have someone in their corner

Sunday

 

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it will be sunday soon

time to sit under the silver moon

think about the time

when daddy taught me a rhyme

when mummy tied my pony tail

and i waited for letters in the mail

it will be sunday soon

i will enjoy the hot afternoon

think about the times

when i choose to have a life of dignity and few dimes

watch sparrows chase each other across my yard

remember there is much beauty even in a life scarred

it will be sunday soon

can’t wait to dream under the silver moon

 

 

Picture credit: Pixabay