Joe
His frost bitten nose,
Scarlet like blood,
His blanket a cardboard box,
Under the ledge,
He sought shelter,
But luck with him was not.
A velvet cap scarce with
pennies,
Guilt ridden coins,
For all were cut with careless
greed,
And intentions good were not.
His heart heavy and eyes
longing,
Cast across the sky
A final hour,
A final wish,
A meal for the night.
Copyright © Maria Liu | Year Posted 2012
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