The Begging Wealthy Man
Once a man, an elderly
Was in the sunshine begging
His face was dim and dry to see
Unshaven, unappealing
And as I stared he came to me.
Trembling hands reached out to me
As I stood there observing
But I did not feel pity, see,
His ugliness emanating
I wished to, from the old man, flee.
From my hands, it fell in his,
A penny, mere, a penny,
He stared at it and saw it is
The most expectable from me
And wondered to the sky, what bliss!
But then as days went by and by
My heart remembered more
It filled my nights with many sighs
Of guilt for being sore
And to myself, I wondered, “Why?”
But then a friend of mine, I met
Who told me such a story
Of when there was a rich man yet
Who fell to such great misery
And who’s to know his fate he met?
I wondered, why I hadn’t seen
The handsome wealthy man behind
The shaggy clothes and eyes so keen.
Then I went, the fellow, to find,
And smiled at him.. I wasn’t mean.
That little smile was meant to be
A clearly thought apology
For having been so cruelly blind
To how a man can sometimes find
A fate as bad that changes lives!
Copyright © Stenila Simon | Year Posted 2012
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