CRY, FOR HAPPY
A True Story of a Little Shoeshiner

The tears that slipped freely, down from her eyes
were lost in her honest sweat.
He seemed to want only to make her cry,
to watch eyes red, swollen and wet.

Her pained back was bent, her tired gaze was fixed
at the scuffed shoes upon his feet,
he was thundering at her, and with feelings mixed
she carefully began to speak...

"I'm so sorry sir, but I'm doing my best
to please you and make your shoes shine,
and I do know you have a plane to catch,
please be still sir, you'll be done in good time."

All her life she'd been taught, at church and at home
to be quiet, and to just do her work.
Never to sigh, never to moan
and certainly never to shirk.

He reached down and pulled the plug from the wall
of the fan, that cooled her poor head,
then he smiled at her, as though wanting to be cruel
as he plugged in his laptop instead.

"The amount of the tip I may give to you
is going to depend on whether,
you just close your mouth, and get to each shoe,
so shut up and polish that leather!"

A stranger walked up, and smiled at the lass,
he removed the plug from the wall.
"I'm sorry young lady, you suffered this ass,
once again, you can keep yourself cool."

"And now sir you there, with your laptop and cane,
it's high time you got out of that chair,
And if you have, even half of a brain,
to return to this place, you'll not dare."

Her champion sat down and she polished his shoes
and he paid her twice for her labor,
he had charged to her rescue and banished her blues,
a truely remarkable favor.

She watched her knight leave, her heart feeling glad
and she smiled at the thought of old "lappy."
Again the tears fell, but no longer for sad,
they were quite simply, tears for happy.

Antonio L, copyright © 2003

And how do I know it is true? For the story behind this poem go to; Cry, For Happy - The Story

[This message has been edited by Antonio_L (12-31-2003 02:43 PM).]