'Jesus took the Loaves,
Gave thanks,
And distributed them.'
In a bakery the poor baker rolls the dough with water and his sweat.
Bakery owner is a registered miser among the poor folks
Who never throws a bread crumb to a crow.
The stray smoke rises from chimney to the helpless sky in its usual rhythm
And I see a man who sits on the pavement just opposite the bakery.
He must be a homeless and he thinks if he's the baker
Then he could have swallow a cookie easily.
Saliva comes out from his toothless mouth
Like in a leaked urban tap.
A stunning poem picture of poverty and the indifference so often shown to the forsaken among us.10/10 Always your friend, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your word painting of this pitiful scene is moving and beautifully written. Your final line is particularly poetic. The reader sees it all and weeps. Love Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥