DMZ Transgressions

In the journey from here to there,
In an unscheduled brief stop in the middle of nowhere,
I stare out of the window;
Into what seemed a deep, dark and dead alley,
Where a single street light, incongruously,
shed an eerie glow.
Under the light, a slight shirtless waif,
Sifts for his day’s food in the waste.
I see the boys frown in his wrinkled brows,
Hunger will be his tonight’s friendly foe!
Perhaps, like before, he will survive
Through one more uncaring night.
As I contemplate doing right,
The car starts to roll on by,
My out-of-sight-out-of-mind takes flight
Out of that dark alley.
After a brief pang of conscience and guilt
Of having done nothing to that nameless son,
I will have moved on.
But that child will never make it out of that DMZ,
Never knowing school, never being fed,
Never knowing warmth, never knowing helping-hands
Those that my son takes for granted.
Living in the no-man’s land,
That is the destitute child of an impoverished God.
And worse,
A effin' fodder to my transient conscience
and to this futile pretentious verse.