Tattered Overalls, Shirt, and Bare Feet | Teen Ink

Tattered Overalls, Shirt, and Bare Feet

September 19, 2016
By ToP_Poet BRONZE, Brookfield, Illinois
ToP_Poet BRONZE, Brookfield, Illinois
3 articles 2 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake" (Napoleon Bonaparte)

I saw a shadow in front of me,
It emerged,
And when it emerged it was he I could see.
I saw a little boy no older than 9.
Dressed in ripped overalls, and a tattered shirt,
He looked far from divine.

The boy had red rosy cheeks and puppy dog eyes,
Welts on his neck scratches on his face, and scars on his hands
It was clear he’d been through a lot for his size.
He approached me again,
Not saying a word or making a whisper.
It would be up to me to break the zen.

“Hello”, is what I said,
The boy coughed and whispered,
“Can I have some bread?”
My heart fell into the pit of my chest.
I could not help but care for his boy,
I pulled out a leftover sandwich for the boy to digest.


He smiled, and took the gracious offering,
He came up and hugged me.
The boy said “thank you”, and my heart softened.
He turned around,
And disappeared back into the shadow he came from.
I hoped a better place is where he was bound.

Twasn’t till later that I found the boy had taken another,
My wallet, with my proposal ring inside.
I felt ashamed as I had nothing to offer my love, and feared she’d go to another.
While I was walking down the street,
Not but a few hours later,
I saw the boy with tattered overalls, shirt, and bare feet.

I grabbed him by his collars,
I yelled, “Why did you take my wallet boy?”
He cowered and replied, “I needed two hundred dollars.”
“What on earth for?” I yelled, ignoring the obvious.
He pointed down an alley,
Where an older woman lay and looked as if she needed a medical audience.

“My mother is very sick”, cried the boy.
My heart sank once again,
All the anger I had once felt, disappeared as if exposed to the lacroix.
“I’m a doctor”, I told the boy.
I hurried over to the poor woman,
I knew I could help her, it was not a ploy.

As the boy cuddled his mother, now fine,
I took back my wallet and took out the ring.
Which I gave my soon to be bride later with a glass of wine.

The author's comments:

I was inspired to write this piece after reading the short story, "Thank You, Ma'am". This poem is about a character who does bad things but is not inherently bad

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