Thursday, November 5, 2015

Jeremy Toombs writes

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.
 WebMuseum: Bruegel, Pieter the Elder
 The Beggars --Pieter Bruegel the Elde


  1. Jeremy nailed this beautifully well. I love the flows and solidarity of this poem. The theme is well-thought as well.

    Nice one, poet.

  2. Abel, thanks as always for your thoughtful comments. I wish other readers would avail themselves of the same courtesy, even if it is to disagree with some content.

  3. Thanks, Abel. I don't usually write with such a rhyme scheme but what for me was the emotional nature of this subject, I had to have a scaffold for it.


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