I walk down the corner of the 33rd street, I’m just trying to get away from the commotion hoping that it’ll all be done, the noise, the chaos, I just wanted to eat and so I don’t care what’s happening though things running through my head as I hear them shout some things about poverty, food, education and something about kicking the president out, “pshh, poverty, what do they know about being hungry” I murmured, I am but a child with my early age all that they spare to me is pity….
I paused, “yes pity”, then I looked up in the dark cold secluded ally, “this is where I belong, where no one really cares of what happens to any of my kind and to where nobody sees me”, every time people look at me their eyes seem to traverse another direction that it seems they are avoiding even to make an eye contact with me, “I wont bother knowing why, for even I pity myself”….
Slowly reaching the bottom of the garbage can, “aha!, there it is”, looking at the piece of morsel, “I know, you were thrown out because you’re a reject, expired perhaps, but don’t worry I wont disregard you less than the others”, *grins*, as I was eating that bread I looked down and suddenly tears begun to flow, “if only my little voice will be heard beyond all this commotion, then I can tell them to spare me a better left over”, my body shaking, so thin, so innocent, so ignorant, “hah, they throw this words at me, yet they don’t know what it feels, yet they don’t do anything to help me, they all say they fight for something, but I, who have nowhere to go, me, who knows nothing is just another kid, I know I don’t have such knowledge, I know I don’t know why they start those movements, I don’t even know the reason of all this commotion, I just want to eat…”
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