Sunglasses on
Radio turned up
Doors locked and windows up
Red light
Makes me hit the brakes
Other cars, rules of the road
Forces me to stop.
Nothing forces me to see
I could close my eyes and just breathe.
Something grabs my attention
A boy
Perhaps a teen.
Small and sporting punk
In his hand a cigarette.
In his forlorn eyes
I see everything that I don’t want to see.
Words cannot explain
Maybe it’s all in my imagination...
Maybe it is a sick and cruel game.
I’m forced to feel their pain.
Real or imagined.
Nonetheless, I feel pain.
For them...
For him.
What is he doing on the streets?
Shouldn’t he be in school?
Why is his look so far away?
What has his life forced him to face?
Car behind me
Impatiently honks its horn at me.
Oblivious of what I
What I... well, it’s not about me.