The Beggar, the Poorman,
The cold, bitter,
At my shaggy, unshaven face.
I look up only to see
A bunch of cold hateful stares.
Lonely, sad, unwanted, forgotten.
I am no longer optimistic,
But disgusted with myself.
I am hungry, depressed,
Hated by many.
I did not choose to live like this,
It is the only way I get by, day by day.
I hear the people all around me
Snickering and sneering.
I know they don't want me here,
But I wish someone would understand.
They criticize me for my lifestyle,
But they can't even offer me a dollar.
They take for granted the food they have,
Where some people don't have any.
I smell the nose tingling scents of
Too much perfume and hotdogs,
Gas and garbage,
I wish I had a home of my own.
I am the beggar, the poorman, the bum,
I stand on the corner losing my dignity.
All because I haven't a house, a family, a job,
I am also the man you ignore and pretend not to see.
So, call me names,
Ignore me or hate me.
I am the person you will never take the time to meet,
Or have the heart to acknowledge.
This page was last updated on May 30, 2006 by the KIWW Webmaster.