A woman approached and politely she asked,
For me to spare some small change please.
She opened her hand, littered with small coins,
As if to encourage that I fill them further.
I allowed her time, to rattle her schpeel,
As I waited to know just how I would feel.
But as I inhaled the pungency of drink,
I knew beyond doubt, that she would not buy tea.
She continued to plead, saying I had a choice,
And I chose to decline, listen to my inner voice.
She failed to concede, that I'd chosen against,
As I walked on my way, she muttered her resentment.
But I had agreed help, through my denial,
As she bitterly scorned, I continued to smile.
Were her losses mine, had I failed to give ?
I felt saddened but sure, my charity well placed.
Could she also not choose, to stay off the drink ?
Spend her money more wisely, before crossing the brink.
Where she sank into bitter, and twisted response,
A fresh cut above her eye revealing a fall.
If getting into this state, had been of my doing,
Then gladly I would, be helpfully pursuing,
A way to restore her life into order,
A return of her balance, to reasonable comforts.
But I felt hurt, for a moment or two,
That she judged me harshly, as unkind too.
Denying her a favour, she spat out her wrath,
And I courted pity, but on her it was lost.
She would never know, just how much I distress,
That our city be littered, the down and the homeless.
Or how much I pray, for a world of fairness,
Yet she undoubtedly felt, I really couldn't care less.
To the ungrateful beggar, who gave Nottingham a vision of her laziness and contempt.
I pray that you find comforts from your Demons.. x
No comments:
Post a Comment