I see you there, Sir
Under the lip of a rooftop as
rain engraves a cold, gray melody
into the concrete cushion
by your bare feet

I hear you pleading, Sir
eyes cupping a drained reservoir
of human dignity
and words lost through bleeding lips
cracked, without any water
to sooth them

I feel for you, Sir
and the injustice
the distemperment of this
evolved society
where as soon as a member is forced
through the very same system
forced to kneel in the gutter
with trash, they become
an abandoned dream in a puddle
of old rainwater.

I will not ignore you, Sir
Not like the many before
who see you there and think
threat, or
animal, or

equal punishment for your uknown
(but judged)
crimes

As though any of us are innocent!

I stop here for you, Sir
and I refuse to walk away
or avert my eyes
or assume to know what it was like
and what you’ve earned

No, Sir; I refuse.

Though this leaves me
in the same puddle as you, Sir,
I’d like to dance in the water;
And though, by some spell, Sir,
as I meet your eye
I become invisible too;
I won’t walk on
Until.

I will give you my hand
(do with it as you will)
and I will see you stand, Sir.

I will see you
stand.