Full of half torn novels
One working drinking fountain,
In the back corner by the bathrooms.
A child holds his mothers hand
As he steps up on the white plastic stool
"Careful, you don't want to slip!"
His mother says.
The kid behind them waits,
Licks his chapped lips,
He looks desperately at the cold
Flowing water from the fountain.
His water at home had been
Turned off because the bill
Was way too high.
His mother told him to be polite,
Show love to everyone around.
He followed what she had said to him,
Even though it was just him now.
The child on the stool
Takes huge gulps, one after the other
And the caring mother is blind
To the the kid shaking in desperation
Right behind them.
For minutes on end,
Stars in front of vision,
The waiting outlasts the hope.
Mannered to the end.
Tears run from his dehydrated body
As empty, he collapses.
