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Spare Change
Often I wonder if this is really it.
If this is all that the world will be.
There’s so much trauma and despair,
Pollution is the air.
It’s almost impossible to breath,
Living in such a big city.
Never knowing what’s next,
Can you plan for tomorrow?
Should you take chances?
Put yourself at risk?
Or just play it safe.
Being forced to watch your back while
Being expected to look forward to the future.
Plan for tomorrow,
When tonight is never promised.
When tonight everything could so easily
Turn to ruins.
So I guess my question is
Should we keep moving forward,
Or live in the past?
Give the spare change in our pockets to
The old man standing outside in the pouring
Rain,
Or the freezing snow.
Do we increase our speed as we walk
By them?
Roll up our windows as we drive past them
In our cars?
Refuse to make eye contact,
Because of the awkwardness.
Assume it’s all a scam,
And pretend they don’t exist.
Without even bothering to know their story.
Without even stopping to have a short conversation,
Or just smiling in their direction.
Is this really it?
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