The Beggar

May 16, 2011
Feebly, he shakes his can,
eyes imploring
hardened hearts
to spare a dime.
They pass him by,
heels of businesswomen clicking
hasty sounds of quickening steps
leaving him to trashcan dinners
and his broken life.
Mothers bring children to sides,
stuffy men raise their noses in the air,
rich women clutch purses.
All rush
to happy lives
and meals they will throw away.
The beggar sits
on a cold stair,
waiting to be whisked away
from mad delusions
and empty stomachs.

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