The artistic Christian compels us to see others in poem.
I’ve never attempted to produce a 150-word Flash Friday challenge entirely in Haiku…
But it’s a new year, and there’s a first time for everything.
Seen at Last
His breath came in gasps,
Hot tears splashed on the pavement,
But no one noticed.
His father beat him,
His mother was high…again,
But no one knew this.
Teachers found him rude,
Some wondered if he could talk,
But no one asked him.
His stomach grumbled,
He searched for trash on the street,
No one paid him mind.
He asked for money,
Was shoved – rough – against a wall,
No one stopped to care.
Salted tears burned deep,
His young face, gashed and bleeding,
No one seemed to see.
The street box was cool,
And as he clung to its strength,
He saw a window.
He found a boy there,
And gazed into mirrored eyes,
He saw everything.
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