Shoeshine Boy He calls aloud to passersby Beckoning as they grow nigh, "I'll shine your shoes for a dime" Or a quarter if you're so kind. A ragamuffin boy with curly hair His prized possession an old chair, With a creaky seat that sorely sags And a wooden box for polish and rags. He sets up shop at the break of day Hoping to sway gentlemen his way. "Please mister, will you have a seat?" I need the work so I can eat. Each day begins and ends the same In a crowd where no one knows his name, You can hear the call up and down the street, "Please mister will you have a seat?" I can make your shoes shine like new I'll even dance a jig for you, I can pop my rag in three quarter time And all it will cost is one thin dime. I'll sing for you an old time ditty If you'll have a little pity, Just sit down and rest a spell, Beautiful shines are what I sell. As darkness settles on the street He sits down in his chair to eat, A stale sandwich is his only meal Of bread loaf heels with no appeal. The dirty sidewalks are home To this young boy on his own, He shines shoes by light of day, At night sleeps in alleyways. Each day as the dawning breaks His favorite place he takes, By a chair he'll spend the daytime Crying out "shine for a dime?" ©Written by: Kenneth J. Ellison 09-03-05 Return   Poetry By Ken Guestbook   Email Ken To send this page to someone