Charlotte Pinkney

(3/3/95 / Worcester)

The Beggar Boy

The boy sits begging,
Hands up high
His head raised up,
Toward the sky.
People pass by.

He waits there all day,
Hands up high
His head stays up,
He heaves a sigh.
People pass by.

The moon comes out,
Shines on the hands up high,
The head raised up,
Toward the sky.
No one passes by.

He's all alone
And freezing cold,
His hands tremble,
Breaking the mould.
Of the beggar boy.

Submitted: Sunday, July 05, 2009

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