he

She offered biscuits,

prayed silently for his happy future.

He rolled up his window,

expressing disgust at this urban disease.

She dropped a spare coin,

bought herself convenience for a rupee.

He gifted him an empathetic smile,

satiating reward for an empty stomach.

She exchanged her notebook,

against a cap - his introduction to trade.

He was moved to tears,

but he was still there, unmoved.

She simply acted,

took him to an orphanage.

He listened to his story,

started a street school that evening.

She routed him to other cars,

fair guidance to a misdirected life.

He and she, you and I.

We act in secret, and it comes to pass -

his world is but our looking glass.