In the dead of night,
Silence falls on the empty subway station,
The lighting in a corner is shadowy and dark,
there, sit crouching is a scrawny boy,
Ragged clothes, messy ***** blonde hair,
eyelids closed against the dim light of the room.
On his face, there are bruises of multitude of hues,
Garish purple splotches,
roughly the size of a fist.
In his hands, a red candy tin is tightly clutched.
A candy tin without candy.
It belongs to his sister... or it used to.
It was her childhood, her hope, her happiness.
Now, this dusty suffocating little box has become her home.
Her sanctuary...
a place free of hunger, blood, and war.
Maybe it's a good thing after all.