Yesterday,
I met a 21 year old homeless kid.  

He asked for a cigarette but –
My friend didn’t have any left so he gave him the rest of his last.  

The kid told us it was his birthday-
and he spent all day getting beat up
and beat on.  

He showed us his scrapes and cuts.  

I told him I liked his jeans with the bamboo pattern
and he was surprised.  

He told us-
some guy gave him the hoodie he is wearing, and
otherwise he got all of the clothes out of the dumpster.  

My friend said he was sorry and
the kid said don’t feel sorry for me because
I feel sorry for me and it is my fault
I’m this way and no one else’s.  

So my friend said maybe things will turn around.  

The kid had nothing in his eyes except a cold stare and said

“Yeah, maybe.”  

No hope for the future displayed.  

This struck me so horribly.  That street kid could easily be me.

That’s why I’m grateful to have gotten out
of the culture of drugs
and crime and
to have infinitely patient and supportive friends and family.  

I feel too deeply all of the sorrows of this world and
there is nothing I can do about it.  

That’s what hurts the most.  

I don’t deserve anything
but I have a lot while others have nothing.  

Why is this world so unfair?