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Oh, please, drop something in my cup, a bill or batch of change,
to see me smile when I look up...my fear with hope exchange.
A homeless man surely I am, my fate did bad by me;
I am not here to cheat or scam, I have no family.
On me, this tattered coat, my home, will hug me to the end;
cast out by fate and all alone...this cup, my only friend.
Oh, please, just one coin in my cup, or maybe two or more,
in trembling hands that I hold up, my begging eyes implore.
You'll never know the intense pain of having hunger gnaw
or have to sleep out in the rain or barnyard on the straw.
To be looked at with such disgust by some who pass me by,
and know there's no one I can trust beneath this lonely sky.
Oh, please, drop something in my cup; assure my heart will beat;
to see my eyes, with hope, tear up...perhaps today I eat.
In past, my life was full of dreams, but path I could not find;
no one to guide me so it seems...to future I was blind.
And so I live my days and deal with each one as it comes,
to walk the streets, to find a meal until my life succumbs.
Sandra M. Haight
Contest: Screwed XV
Sponsor: Rob Carmack
Form: Iambic Heptameter - 14 syllables, 7 feet per line
plus internal rhyme
Premiere Contest: Being Homeless
Sponsor: The Seeker
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016
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