The Shadow Man

If you’re ever passing Auburn Street Find him if you can Though he is not invisible, He is the shadow man Eyes avert his corner perch And voices thin and drop Paces quicken at his sight And no one ever stops The shadow whispers, “help me” But it never hits their ears Sound hovers for a moment Before realizing no one hears “I’m busy,” “Didn’t see you,” “I have no change,” “I’m late!” Sun setting on an empty hat The shadow bears his fate But one small hand Holds out a dime “You’ve got no coins sir, Please, take mine,” The child skips away from the practiced “God Bless You” Back to the life Shadow once had, Young conscience clean and true The Shadow’s scars will never mend And hunger takes its toll But with the dime clutched in his hand The shadow heals his soul