Ice Age On the Pavement

As the street artist draws on pavement tiles Asking money but getting smiles The street urchins would offer a hand Not to greet but to earn a rand And as the pedestrians would walk They pass by these fields of withered stalk And look away or look afar Unwilling to look upon poverty’s scar Yet if they looked they may just find A human being of flesh and mind A whale washed up on life’s cruel shore Who is happy with less and ask no more But when you look then you will see A world grown cold, “it’s all about me”!