As I walked a busy road
This sorrowful sight I saw
A tender boy with open palms
Begging desperately for some alms
Giving him a coin I asked about him
I am nothing; nothing for this world he said
There’s nobody to worry about me
And nobody to see if I am fed and clad
I am somebody’s “leftover” they say
Doomed in a gutter to die
And today asking for alms
On this road I lie
I sleep on a dirty footpath
Sometimes dogs and drunkards share my place
Far from those fortunate people
Who spend their nights on cozy linen and lace.
He then looked at the sky and sighed
Looking very weak and pale
I just tried to console him
As his tears testified the tearful tale
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