It's 9:30am and you are late son
What is your excuse this time?
Wipe that smirk from your face
Go and stand there, at the back of the line.
He's always late him and he never listens
I'll ask him a question; he mumbles replies
I've never known a boy who daydreams so much
And in the afternoon, he is quite and mostly cries
Didn't he used to be a happy little boy
With a laugh that was quite contagious
I can't seem to get to the bottom of his problems
And when I try, he bursts out with rages
Late again but this time he looked so different
He looked at me with a look I hadn't seen before
I took a deep breath, looked lovingly in to his eyes
'Sir, my dad can't afford to feed us all'
My heart sank and I went to me knees
My eyes welled with guilt at this 8 year old boy
He only had one meal every single day
My job, to find the child's lost joy
I told him I would help and speak to people I know
This stops now and support with be found
That night I cried as I struggled to understand
Another family that has nearly drowned
It's 8:30am and you are early again son
He laughed as he ate a breakfast bar
'Sir, I like getting in early. I like our chats'
Son, you've now turned in to a superstar!
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