Value of Life

The darkness of the silent street...
the gushing cold wind making eerie sound...
The occupants of the village ...
sleep firmly ensconed...

he sits on the bench...
with little to hide...
emaciated...
but a life still inside..

wonder the value of life...
if its the value of clothes?
if its the value of freinds ?
if its the value of gains..

the helped is one...
who deserves help...
so those in need..
may compete to deserve...

the center is only one...
it is the self...
the other...
is only periphery...

where do I live...
and why do i ponder..
he who has this time..
is the one to be left behind..

think I must...
and write I must...
and act I must..

it is for us ..
to understand..
we can be the one...
on the bench.