I used to give what ever I had in those loose pockets of minehoping
the little would make you smile,
encourage
or motivate you to blossom again.
So you wouldn't have to bear those despiteful stare
as you ask for spare change.
so that your coffee would warm your chest,
just
so that you could get by another day.
Until i saw you walking your dog
into a house...
holding cans of beer, and grocery...
this is a trickery of sight, I think?
Unbelief made me watch you for one week
or so:
as you came out of your house
and went to work, sitting there
pleading for spare change
upon my deaf ears.
Though you probably counted for
a small percentage,
my compassion fled to the unknown,
a rock pumps the cells through my veins
and a blind eye i give
these days.
Can I find my faith
again?
Shaun Gordon aka Donusho 14/11/2010 ©
Picture from Adam Dustus, OneShotPoetry (one shoot sunday photo), oneshotpoetry.blogspot.com
A small note:
I am aware that not all homeless people are out there to deceive or make money just so they can get another fix. I have spoken to some homeless people and they actually admitted that this is a chosen lifestyle for them. Though this is not true for all as everyone situation is different.
The above poem is a personal experience of my mine and I wanted to express how it made me feel, think and delve into how it effected my attitude.
Thanks for reading.
