6 a.m. Monday morning.
The first hours of the week.
He could hear the world moaning,
He stayed happy, poor geek.
He looked up into the faces
Of the people passing by,
All they gave him were some pennies
And sometimes a sorrow sigh.
He looked up on dying livers,
They were hurrying along,
He stood there smiling faithly
At the empty faces' storm.
He was freer than the others,
They were calling him a jerk
And continued flee in numbers
To the edge - to get a perk.
He was standing in the corner,
He was caressed by the Sun.
And he watched the dying torrent
Flowing just to come undone.
The whole world is having measles
But some people still look up,
They see stars. They can see Jesus.
Their lifes are worth a dump.
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This is an original poem published on steemit.com only as a continuation of my previous post devoted to the same topic. Thank you so much for attention.
Anastasia
