“The Beggar”
“The Beggar”
Sad and hunched over, spent and bent over
He walked the streets (dressed) in his rags
The beggar.
Forgotten by all, at the crossroads of penury
He stopped in his tracks, mumbling from memory
My poor broken family
And I seeking a life-saver
As one gasping in a sinking ship
Just as a homeless wanders the streets
A stranger to all those around him
He lives the life of a nomad.
Back at home the children are crying
Clinging in close to their mother
Yet she is constantly weeping with longing
For her husband out wandering the streets.
Here in the sprawling city
With buildings and apartments
[…]
He opens a door, behold
People eating a breakfast repast
On the table some butter
Together with things from the baker
“Would you spare me a sliver
to enlighten my soul?”
Engaging him now with an ominous glance
Tapping his leg in very evident anger
The man shouted, ”Get out”
Slamming the door in his face.
The beggar retreated, hungry and thirsty
Seeking respite from the wind.
All around him a storm boding the onset of autumn
As his soul he commended to god.
Through a strange gate he will enter
Falling asleep in the shelter.
