Begged

Ashing cigarettes, spilling smoke,

I turned around to get a look,

It's a flickering bulb 

Along the white pole,

Beneath stood a boy with

Less clothes, more hole.

His face was black,

Both by colour and coal,

His hair done badly

And he smelled awful,

His eyes in my eyes

Staring straight for hope.

It was 9 at night

And he was standing alone,

With roses in his hand

And his hands, the thorns,

'Ten, they cost' 

He was screaming out loud,

With each passing body,

His voice would grow.

Time passed by,

Buzzing bulbs were going off,

He had roses in his hand

Which nobody bought,

Ten seemed billions

For the people around,

A fear bore in his body,

He wouldn't be able to cope.

He closed his eyes shut,

Must be thinking of that life,

School to study and bed to sleep,

Food to eat and park to play,

His dreams are cheap,

His passions not big,

Reach him and buy roses,

Ten is what you need to pay.

He picked up his bag

Which now weighed a ton,

Stand and scream,

That's all he has done,

With his face down,

He walked to the roundabout,

One more foodless night,

That's the obvious end.