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”!
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