With ceaseless hope the beggar tries
Some honey ploys to catch more flies
While each rebuke delays his plan
They can’t dissuade this humble man
He plods his path the best he can
Encouraged by fast hunger pangs
Around his neck a cross still hangs
His faith unsure but worth a shot
He uses every chance he’s got
To gain himself a higher slot
As night beds down his cardboard box
He counts his change and dries his socks
For morning’s trip to paradise
And breakfast with the lord’s advice
So grateful he will say grace twice
As always he will strive again
His daylight journey will begin
And faithfully he’ll face the fight
To make his life’s wrongs nearer right
And hope his box is there tonight
Comments (5)
Your words are so simple upon first reading, then my thoughts go off like fireworks.
I only had five minutes to quickly check your site out of curiosity. And time more-than well-spent; it breaks my little heart to see a poem these day which manages to combine disciplined rhyme, meter, and a killer message. I shall return; don’t ever change, ha/ JS Tel Aviv
Well written. I don’t know if the not being makes him heavy or light though.
Dear Ben,
The best description of the homeless lifestyle I’ve ever read.
“So grateful he will say grace twice.”
(And I love the AABBB rhyme scheme.)
Michael F. Nyiri, poet, philosopher, fool
the title made me smile. the content made heart sunk a little.
this is quite a sad existence.