Homeless Man

He went, ever on the move;
The wandering beggars, who are;
He does not hate the rest of us;
Even more we do

I want to be a beggar
No one choose to love
In the ream of fact
He is alone, with his wishes
ocean roll drearily;
between home and the wanderer

My court is an assembly
Of noble and famed beggars
Winter! You know he had no clothes
He is abandoned, by the world
He is beggar, lucky to receive
The daily water of starvation

Beg for greatness
As for all else,
Greatness shines out of him
He don’t know it.


Other poems of PISHARODY (71)

Comments (1)

Written with great sensitivity. Your last lines are especially poignant. Excellent write. Warm regards, Sandra