Humble On Return Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Humble on return

On corner stood child
Held her face and cried
Passing man acted kind
Stood while, then crossed
Passed the road…

He had food on his head
Soft, humble on return
Bowed, questioned:
"What is wrong? "

"Hungry…"
Is all what said the child
She had some curly hair
Long hanging her buger

"Can cry and speak…"
Said the man caressing
But no food for starved.

This I see everyday
Word is cheap give away
Worth nothing but a fart!

Cheap are the bullets, guns
What about food, care, love?
Do you see them capsized?

And at end?
What we want?