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Spare a Dime

You walk right on passed him everyday,
Stepping to one side 'cause he's in your way.
You look down on him making a clutter,
A poor lonely man down in the gutter.

A judgment is made upon this poor soul,
Fallen on hard times now in a hole.
You quickly rush by him and try not to see,
You think that you are better he.

You don't know his history or why he's there
And like many others you don't seem care
He's like the garbbage of no interest or use
Only fit for hate and abuse.

You walk right passed him, pretend he's not there
Yet he's still human in need of your care,
He once had a family and some one to love
Just give him your pity, heavens above.

So if he asks you to spare him a cent
Just think of it as a kindly hand lent
And give him a coin you've nothing to lose
And just be grateful you're not in his shoes.

P H Brookes Copyright 2012

poem by Paul Brookes
Added by Poetry Lover
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