The Beggar In The Street

The Beggar In The Street,

By Adam Kane.

The beggar brays, bent in the street,
his broken dreams and worldly means,
lay tattered at his feet.

The unforgiving breeze bites bitter to his bones,
while his bared feet are frozen, to the cold cobblestone.

These youthful bones may never move,
aground in poverty's mire,
his tired eyes fix-ed to the ground,
dead to the faithful's fire.

'Change,' he croaks.
'change for serfs upon the street,
for the poor benighted souls,
who grovel at your feet.'

They pay him no heed.

Plump, fed and dressed, in a coat of black and grey,
an elder snarls at the beggar's face,
and bids him clear the way.

But from the man's coated arm, comes forth a slender child,
blue eyes burning beyond a veil, of a face so tender and mild.

To the beggar's hand she presses a coin.

Her elder, did not approve.