Beggars and Me
Beggars on the roadside.
Feeling full of grief;
drop a dime or walk on by
there’s no difference, no relief.
There’s how I think, how I feel
and what’s it mean to me.
At times I drop the dime,
other times I let it be.
There’s times I got no money
or paper too big to give;
so I’ve come around to saying prayers:
Lord, won’t you help this soul to live?
There’s times I pass judgement,
counting up arms and legs
saying, this body’s healthy
and got no reason to beg.
But who am I to say, to see inside?
Whatever do I know?
In the end it’s my relief
it could be me on beggar’s row.
The Beggars --Pieter Bruegel the Elde