The beggar
.
.
.
Early this year I began meditating on what I call the cycle of poverty, as I saw how much it has plagued our Nation and her youths.
I crafted out this poem to tell a part of my many thoughts
*****THE BEGGAR*****
Who is this that begs in the streets?
So haggard and tattered am having fits.
But then he begs for just a coin
One meager and useless coin.
Who would refuse him, so pitiful is he
For his shoulders is slumped down by the dregs of humility
Clangs clangs clangs the coin beat the bowl
But as the abyss, it is never whole
And with each working day it appears naked
So does the beggar as he cries all day to be fed
Who is this that begs in the streets?
He is the man I have known since I could sit.
But here he is, still smiling to passers by
Waving his bowl to get a coin without a sigh.
Far too long has he been known,
As he who begs with feeble tone
Slurry and blurry goes his speech and sight
He’s now a beggar indeed who has no might
As he wastes away seated in his stony seat and tattered mat
Now his deathbed with none to weep at.
Who is this that begs in the streets?
He looks younger than He I saw since I could sit
But here he is seated at the same spot
Begging for coins that will tomorrow be naught
He cries, “I have ploughed high and low
And my wriggly soul can’t take the tow,
My father warned it will be tough
That I should leave the toils and take His lot”
Who is this that begs in the street?
He is the son of Him, I knew since I could sit
#MichArt
#MichPoems
©2018
Michael Enechi is an artist too. He made the portrait.
Comments
Post a Comment