THE BOY ON THE BRIDGE

I once knew a boy, who worked on the bridge
He was tattered and hungry, but would not give in
Everyday after twelve, he'd walk by with a box
No shoes or a shirt, on the hot pavement rock

I had heard of the stories, of life on the street
But would never acknowledge, that boy which I'd see
Too hard to imagine, what I already knew
That boy that I saw, made those stories true

Those days which have passed
Those days which are gone
Never opened my eyes
To the terrible wrong

For I had not seen, what I could have been
To that poor lonely boy, whose life is so dim
It was then that I saw, what I could have been
The boy on the bridge, I could have been him

Copyright © 2000 Luis Alfonso Torres