Mouldy Bread
Once I threw a mouldy bread
into the dumpster
and when I went for groceries
I saw a Gypsy boy taking the bread
and being content about it.
A tear dropped down my cheek.
I was always surrounded by
immoral people;
drug addicts, alcoholics,
small thieves, the poor.
Perhaps they see me as one of them
or they like the fact I don’t see them
as immoral. Or they see me as a saviour.
Yes, that is who I am.
Mother Theresa for drug addicts.
Mouldy bread for hungry Gypsy boy.
Copyright © Jana Soskic | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment