This little coffee-skinned;
Barefooted, his feet burn.
Eyes were wide, awakened;
While his breadbasket's growlin'.
Zoom in, zoom out;
I hold this focusing on his mouth.
Dried, thirst might have tasted,
Should've been a perfect shot, twisted.
Curls, shorter than an inch,
Mud's all over his cloth.
Wondering around, a pinch;
In my heart, I'll comfort.
Knelt, so I could level his eyes on me,
Mud's sticking on my knee.
Stretched a pair of lollipop,
Two for him, yet one's given back.
My eyes watered, my shutter's shut.
I smiled at him, he beamed so wide.
He opened his, gladness sought,
This little child is bona fide.
For minutes I witnessed;
A real-life treasure.
For awhile, bedazzled;
From his taintless demeanor.
I raised the lense, so I could capture;
Not his droughty lips.
I click, a flash uproared;
For his genuine smile, uplift.
YOU ARE READING
Just POETIQUÉ
PoetryWere you lonely? Were you sad? Has everything been bad lately? Unlike the beautiful times you've had. Smile with me. Cry with me. Get mad with this soul. Maybe we'll find a way out of the cold. -JAM MARIANO
