the Power of SMALL Actions

 

I knew he was special

He was tame unlike the others

 

He walked apart

Always lost in fantasy  

 

His eyes the color of caterpillars

His shirt wrinkled

 

I walked home from school one day

Following behind him

His eyelids drooping as he looked at the ground

you live there” someone said, followed by snickering

 

His home was the color of bad weather

Windows so small you’d think they’re holding their breath

 

 

He carried a cigar box of crayons

Someone gave him a hard blow against his head

knocking the crayons into the road

 

He bent down to pick them up

It’s hard not feel for him

He must be exhausted

 

I walked over to help him

I picked up green, yellow, blue, red and

 nubs of black sticks

 

He looked up at me with a twinkle in his eye

He smiled

His smile so great it could warm the heart of a stone

 

At that moment I knew he would be my friend forever.

 

Poetry Slam: 
This poem is about: 
Our world

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