A little girl came begging.
She is seven or eight years old.
Kneel before me on one knee.
I put the change in the plate she held up.
She immediately got up and left.
Don't say much or thank you.
It's still early for the bus.
She came to me for the second time.
Kneel on one knee with a plate.
Just like the hour hand of a clock.
Turn around and return to the finish line.
I saw her eyes.
Seven or eight years old.
There should be a sweet shyness in your eyes.
The face should be pure flowers.
I only see indifference.
Have professional proficiency.
Just like the sky without the moon and stars.
It's like a sea without boats and waves.
I feel fear from the depths of my soul.
It's like being nailed to the heart.
It should be in bud.
Why is it like autumn leaves that have been weathered for many years?
I looked around.
I saw a woman with a baby in her arms.
See a pretense of being casual.
But pay attention to the little girl's eyes
I judged from her expression.
She must be the little girl's mother.
One is a professional beggar.
One is a shameless guardian
Even if society is cruel.
Even if life is hard.
What a heartless pedestrian.
Will defile the beautiful grassland with garbage.
What heartless parents
Let a child give up his dignity.
Another child in my arms
Is it a little beggar again a few years later?
I waited in the square of the station.
I wish I hadn't waited for the bus.
I have never seen a little girl beg.