2013-01-24 - 12:06 a.m.
I often see you there
as I wander the streets at night.
They usually pass you by without a care.
Somehow, I don't feel it's right.
I know what you're doing;
no questions asked.
You've got no time and space
to care about what they think.
You only know you're doing your best.
It's always just you and the baby on your lap;
a poor little boy with a giant head.
You smile at me everytime I stop by,
even with only coins, a bottle of water, and a silent wonder why.
I still see you there,
as I wander the same streets at night.
Should I still be wondering
why it isn't fair?
I know it doesn't make things alright.
So I just try to do the same when I see you;
hoping it's enough just to get you through
a life full of blues...
R.
(Jakarta, January 8, 2013 - 1:24 pm)
