You in a Chair. A Boy in a Street.

You in a chair.

A boy in a street.

A beer in your hand.

A dozen roses in his.

You drink for fun.

He sells for his life.

You’ll throw away your dollar,

But he’ll cling to it.

You may pity him,

but he pities you.

Here you sit, in a country other than your own,

Exploring the world, at the expense of a boy.

A tourist with a beer,

A boy a rose.

All for your entertainment,

All for your dollar.

Does it help?

Does it Hurt?

Help is your purchase.

Hurt is his black eye.

A vicious cycle,

And your dollar feeds this beast.

To deny your dollar?

What sort of person would you be?

Evil. Rich. Greedy.

All the above.

And to give your dollar?

Weak. Ineffective. An enabler.

So which do you chose?

And how did it come to be?

You in a chair.

A boy in the street.

A beer in your hand.

A dozen roses in his.

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