LITTLE SEVEN

a writing by Jonah Abuoma Jonah

Like sap in a stem
The little boy wander lonely off the road
With no hope no destination
Only for what to live on at the moment.
Looking unkempt and worried in his mind
He leaps around.
Looking up to me,
He mumbled in a language so far from me
But with gaze all he wanted was food.
Food not to look healthy
But to quench hunger
To be free from tampering worms
To be free for a moment
To be temporarily and continue to
pan-down for another chance.
So I rendered my little as he leaves
behind the wind.
An I asked,
Do we have government?
Do we have leaders?
Do we have good people again?
He looked seven
Seven without parents
Seven without clothes
Seven without food
Seven with no choice.
We must be grateful for little good time we have.
Street has a lot to tell and teach us.

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