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
Jeremy nailed this beautifully well. I love the flows and solidarity of this poem. The theme is well-thought as well.
ReplyDeleteNice one, poet.
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.
ReplyDeleteThanks, 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.
ReplyDelete