After a successful evening of work
I changed my clothes
Gathered my belongings
Left the building

Meandered to the garage
Where my car was parked
Paid the attendant
Signed the slip

Jumped back in surprise
Man and son next to me
A polite New York City nod given
I sat on the bench, while waiting

The son was upset; crying
Not because he didn't get a toy
Not because he wasn't appeased
The cry was a mature cry

One that resembled the blindsight
Of losing a loved one
His father spoke to him
As he brushed away tears

Sat on the bench next to me
Father spoke - "Want to go to the church tomorrow?"
He cried again, and again
Maturity smacked me

A child beyond his years
Within pain
Finding the harshness of life
Brushing it away with his hand

With this realization
I wanted to help - I suffered loss too
But these days in New York City
You keep to yourself

Act like you don't see the pink elephant
The homeless can't be trusted even
So I said nothing
I hopped into my car and drove away

Another NYC minute passed
Where I felt compassionless existence prevailed
I couldn't nose my way in
It wasn't my place, even though it should have been

05/07/2006

Author's Note: *Archive

Posted on 05/19/2007
Copyright © 2025 Jeffrey Parren