The Beggar and Me
I knocked on your car window, perhaps a bit too hard
And see your scowl behind the tinted darkened glass
A clear disdain for a person with no regard
In soiling your car with dirty hands to harass
I watched my own reflected image on the glass
Begging hand extended, unmindful of the snub
And hoped against hope you will not let it pass
To provide a hungry soul with a bit of grub
In anger you chose to pretend not to see me
While you wait impatiently for the traffic light
You hoped to hope i’d go but i chose to still be
Even as I wondered why you’ve to be so uptight
You are the one seated in the comforts of life
While I am out in the heat of the sun sweating
Struggling with myself with obvious and unseen strife
Yet you’re the one to find our meeting upsetting
I wondered too how the others would make of it
Would they judge me the way they perceive me to be
Abled-bodied but void of any decent spirit
Or just perhaps, they’d know enough not to judge me
Yet would they still agree with your choice to ignore
The cries of a stranger for an act of kindness
As too jaded, too, to have compassion in store -
The sight of me does make for suffering blindness
I watched in silence as you drove off on the green
My begging hand still extended though quite in vain
Left to my own self, I pondered what might have been
If our places had been switched– would I feel your pain?
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