Breaking bread

One day while walking down the street
I met a man who hung his head
down terribly low in defeat
without so much as a crust of bread.

I offered him some food
and sat down for a while
and knew that I’d done good
by his contented smile.

And as the time flew by
I listened to his story
and then he asked me why
I cared for his history.

“I stopped today and shared this meal
because I know how eating alone feels.”