8, he was.

He had the books,
the brown eyes
eager to sell them.
The thin hands
stuck here to work
for dirty money,
There were others too,
small fights and
helpless tears rolling
down as his hand
held the books tight,
the blurry eyes
with tears staring
at the horizon...
irony cannot be
more well defined.

Howl...

It was a dark night,
a dim street light,
he was on the road,
a shade of white.
It was so silent,
he was looking above
and howling loud and long
into the space, his own
slang into the black.
As he calmed down,
I screamed a 'hi' back!
He looked at me, wagged
and then slept peacefully!

Pie!

It was gloomy
and the sun was
burning the skin,
time was so slow
that she could feel
each second pass by
with a silent goodbye!
Patterns of her facial
muscles didn't matter
anymore, she wants
a crispy crust and
a delicious fill
to her life!