Sur l'asphalte frette du centre-ville,
Samuel tchequait sa piasse, immobile.
Un vieux gobelet de carton brun,
Toute sa fortune, tout son destin.
Arrive Victoria, en habit chic,
Pressée, bousculée, l’air s't'un peu toxique.
Son talon accroche, la madame est en finale :
« Tu bloques la track, t'es l’enfer, c'est sale ! »
Pour y faire la leçon, y donner la frousse,
Huissière du froid, hoquète sa s'couousse—
Huplà ! Les trente-sous sautent dans sa sacoche.
À genoux Samuel, le gobelet vide en poche.
Dans l'ombre de la ruelle, Marcus l'a vue.
Y’a pas de justice, mais y’a la loi de la rue.
Y file la avocate, la coince au détour,
Y vide sa bourse, ses bijoux, ses beaux jours.
La rhabille de bleus, la laisse toute nue,
Puis garoche le pactole au bonhomme déchu.
Samuel ramasse l'or, regarde son avenir,
Y va pouvoir enfin arrêter de souffrir.
Mais y reluque la ruelle où la dame grelotte,
À terre, cassée, y'a pus de p'tite sotte.
Le cœur sur la main, malgré l’injustice,
Le vieux s'approche sans le moindre artifice.
Y glisse dans ses mains de glace et de peur
Le vieux cup de carton, ultime valeur.
« Tiens, ma belle, t'en as plus besoin que moi. »
Puis Samuel s’efface, libre, sous les toits.
La Morale La roue tourne vite sur le béton de la ville. Celui qui vide le verre de son voisin aujourd'hui se ramassera demain à quêter sa vie. La vraie richesse, c'est l'empathie qu'on garde quand on a plus une cenne.
On the freezing downtown asphalt, Samuel was checking his change, not moving. A beat-up old brown cardboard cup—that was his whole fortune, his whole life.
Along comes Victoria in her high-end suit, rushed, stressed, totally toxic vibe. Her heel catches his stuff, and she loses her mind: "You're blocking the sidewalk, you're a pain, you're disgusting!"
To teach him a lesson and give him a scare, she grabs his change—boom!—and dumps the quarters into her purse. Samuel is left on his knees, his empty cup in his lap.
Back in the shadows of the alley, Marcus saw her. There’s no court-of-law justice here, but there is the law of the street. He tracks the lawyer, corners her at the turn, and empties her purse, her jewelry, her whole high life.
He leaves her black and blue, stripped bare, then goes and drops the whole jackpot right on the old man. Samuel scoops up the gold, looks at his future—he’s finally gonna be able to stop suffering.
But he glances down the alley where the lady is shivering, wrecked on the ground, all her arrogance completely gone. With his heart on his sleeve, despite the BS she pulled, the old man walks over, no hard feelings.
He slides into her freezing, terrified hands that old cardboard cup—the ultimate tool for survival. "Here, eh, you're gonna need this more than me." Then Samuel fades away into the city, a free man.
The Moral The wheel spins fast on the city concrete. The person who empties their neighbor's cup today will end up begging for their life tomorrow. True wealth is the empathy you still have left when you don't have a single cent to your name.