THE TRAMP

The Tramp

I was walking on my usual way

I saw this tramp of a kid where he was laid

I took no notice of him, just on a whim

He coughed and I jumped, I looked at him

He had two sad little eyes

A very sad little face

He looked very tired and hungry

His chest looked like it felt heavy

He sucked in freshly polluted air

And he coughed even more

His shorts were smudged

He smelt of fresh urine

Normally, after a moment of pity

I’d shrug and walk my way

But today, I felt different

I chose to stay

I squatted on the pavement next to him

Threw at his side, a half-eaten éclair

He did not make a move, like he didn’t understand

‘Eat’, I said, ‘You can call it food’

He proceeded cautiously

Pulled the wrapper whole

Put it in his mouth and swallowed it whole

I chuckled at the kid, he steered

I thought of what else I could do

The gypsy kid looked meekly at me

I could look into his innocent eyes

All I would find would be guilt

His lips moved ever so slowly

His face turned very soft

He clutched onto the wrapper

And said thank you at last

I half-nodded and rose

I asked him where his house was

He pointed towards a shack

A tramp’s house, it looked lank

I felt tired all of a sudden

This house was no place to stay

I looked at the weak little thing

I felt like taking him

I squatted silently for a while

The kid labored real hard

I reached into my pocket

Put a note in his hand and said keep it

He showed no emotion again

I did not stay to look for none

I walked away in haste

Ashamed of what I’d done