Turning back

There was this one kid, i passed him by
on my way home, from a day's work
he was sleeping in the pavement, and people
just went by, unseeing, unfeeling
or maybe just numb

he was asleep in a carton
and i walked by, but each step away
felt like a stone was dropped in my soul

i turned back, with a measly piece of bread
and woke him up, i asked
where are your parents, boy?
and he stared at me, maybe wondered
that a sound of voice was directed at him
and that he is not just a speck of dust

and he cried, you know
he cried and never said a word
just ate whatever my measly little bag of
food hold,
and i, i turned away
for i could not bear the look i was given
that gratitude for something, that was
so little.

i am crying since then.