The Boy Stares At You

THE BOY STARES AT YOU He is raggedly scrunched up Against a wall of sweating bricks, Staring at you with as much pride As life has thrown at him. You see he has no desire to make Conversation with a stranger To his stale, rank impoverishment But he smiles anyway with false bravado. His eyes question your unwanted presence, Loitering for a possible answer Which may be forthcoming And include conditional expectations. He won't break his kingdom of silence, Where he reigns supreme Among poverty's sprawling plague. He waits for you to speak but knows You have nothing to say he'll understand Nor care about. Besides your speech is Foreign to him, so you can stutter on Without the slightest effect. The vultures circle above, letting out Their dolorous cries in search of the dead. He and you live but do not engage Because you cannot relate; You do not exist to each other. Among the scattered stones of the houses, You have found a hidden graveyard Of dreams where there is no afterlife.