Teddy Kimathi Poet Narrative

Life Not My Calling

From morning to dawn my hands stretch to strangers,
getting rain, the wind, and a few pennies. My begging bowl's
weight is light, making me wish that my heart was that light,
with less burdens to carry.
I have been thrown cusses, and thrown from one street
to another; bruises on my face and body are proof
of my hard life. 
I have sacrificed myself to the altar of pain,
so as to be blessed with some food remains in a restaurant
or expired bread and breadcrumbs in a bakery.
Kids run away whenever they see me;
they don'y know I have been running away from death,
throughout my life.
Chilling cold nights, rains, and beatings from rowdy people
have broken my bones, but not broken my spirit.
I've risen above fear of pain and humiliation,
to live another day in the streets.....

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Steven Henderson October 23, 2016 at 6:54 AM Teddy, you are one of a number of poets whom poems I usually read when I visit and see posted. Even though i may not comment every time. Each and almost every time they are heart felt and emotional moving to me. Peace and many blessings to you my friend. Teddy Kimathi October 25, 2016 at 7:13 AM Thank you so much Steven, for passing by to read and comment on my work....I really appreciate it!! ;-) Blessings to you too, my friend!! ;-)