Buchanan Street

My mother once said that I should not be afraid,

For on the day, if I asked I shall receive aid

Peculiar then, I find it that I should be alone

Standing on a wet and cold cobbled stone

Perhaps I said the wrong thing a few days ago,

When asked if I desired my desire I said no

Or maybe my actions have found me here

A sin or two can often produce a tear

So here I ponder - write - on Buchanan Street,

Feeling rather miserable with this heat

Or rather the lack of it, I should better say

How I do wish those birds would go away!

And me alone looking upon the commute,

While I stand here deciding to refute

That man has abandoned his brother,

That people don’t care for one another

My clipboard in hand and my poncho to go,

Even though I may be alone, I will show

That there will be many people willing to give

So that those children in Africa can finally live!