041611M poor kids
deep eyes looking at my food
from window slits fingers on sills
slightly open lips, i ache inside
i called waitress to give them food
send them away, not to come back
instead they smile; waited for me
i have fear stepping out to walk
yet what can i lose getting out
knowing or discovering places
they might answer to questions
i have in mind brewing ever since
never did; they want some more
poem by Manonton Dalan
Added by Poetry Lover
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