A Chance Encounter
A chance encounter the other day
Got me chatting to a stranger
Just for some time to pass away.
He was very well groomed, very smart.
Spoke well too, seemed a decent sort.
I told him a little tale
I had learned whilst at work.
Outside a building that’s up for sale
Close to the centre of the town
A queue of people gathered.
Old clothes, hand me downs.
Inside people of good heart and souls
Were behind tables long.
And a kind of soup was poured into bowls.
A slice of bread was added to each one poured.
As the hungry-eyed came through the door.
As each one passed a thank you was heard.
Grateful for the meal today.
A simple reply least we can do.
All was silent no complaints from the poor.
Till a young voice said, ‘Please Mummy I want more.’
I sat back in my chair waiting for a reply.
The guy opposite gave a big sigh.
He said, ‘Things were tough in those days
Very hard for the poor in the Victorian Age.
They were ignored, did not count,
How could others treat them like that?’
No-one should be without the means I say,
To feed and clothe their children today.
I looked at him and shook my head.
My dear friend you misunderstand
The tale was not yesteryear or a foreign land.
I visited a local food bank the day before last.
And like you I was taken aback.
Unless with my eyes I had seen,
The myth about scroungers I would still believe.
Some get the dregs, others get the cream.
This is Great Britain in 2013.
But the people of our Nation are strong
In times of strife they speak as one.
‘We are mighty as Caesar, mighty as Rome.’
‘ NI CARBORUNDUM BASTARDORUM’