A Cup of Iced Coffee
This is a tale of the haves and the nots
Which I witnessed in front of my face,
A question of simply connecting the dots,
For it happens all over the place.
A woman was rummaging deep in the trash -
She was homeless, or so it would seem –
And extracted, to drink or to add to her stash,
An iced coffee, half-filled, made with cream.
Did she drink it? Not sure, but it made me aware
Of discrepancies glaring and wrong
For whoever did toss it did really not care
Since it cost him not more than a song.
But to her, what it meant (though of course I can’t know)
Was a drink she could never afford
For the way of the world means the nots (this is so)
Are just naturally shunned and ignored.
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