The Beggar

O what would I give for a kobo or two

An old blind beggar sang

He sat in the sand, a bell in his hand

And over and over it rang

Get out of my way, I am late today

Said a young man passing by

As he hurried on, he rounded a turn

And muttered a quick angry sigh

O what would I give to be full today

The old blind beggar prayed

He stood by his cart, and hovered his hat

His clothing was tattered and frayed

I wish I could give, but I have to leave

A pretty young woman thought

She was in a car, her destination far

With her was a cute little tot

O what would I give for a place to sleep

The same old beggar cried

He leaned on a stall that bothered a wall

and pulled on his overgrown beard.

I can’t take you in, I don’t know where you’ve been

An affluent woman was irked

Yet it bothered her soul, so she tossed in his bowl

A crumpled old note as she sniffed

O what would I give, for something to drink

He held out an empty milk tin

Though rusty with dirt, he wiped with his shirt

The cup he had pulled from a bin

That funny old man is holding a can

A little girl pointed him out

Come now, leave him be, I don’t think he can see

her father was eager to shout

And so as he stood by a shed made of wood

The beggar was waiting to see

If someone could hear, Maybe someone would care

Decide what your answer will be.

  1. Pelumi Adeniran says:

    Lovely and thought provoking.

  2. reikiheidi says:

    Hi, just found your blog, thanks to Uzoma 🙂 What a powerful poem, really love this 🙂

    • dfunpen says:

      Thanks so much, I love your poems too. You’ve taken personification to a whole new level and I’m challenged to write a poem with that.

      • reikiheidi says:

        😀 Aw, wow, what a compliment. This is why I love this blogging thing: to inspire and be inspired, to meet new voices, who are all unique… ’tis a wonderful thing!

  3. akiraokihu says:

    Wow… That’s sad… Very sad. Nice poem. I usually have a taboo about writing about the homeless… But beautiful@

  4. Uzoma says:

    This is sad, but it reflects the mastery of a talented story-teller. How’s your family doing? And your writing?

    • dfunpen says:

      Hey Uzoma, thanks for the shout out. I’m doing great. Kids on holiday, so my hands are full. I’ve made a commitment to my blog however. Hope to stick to it. My story is nearing its end and I’m praying to finish it completly this year.

      Waiting on d next istalment of your story.

  5. I saw a woman stoop down, yesterday in the early mourn. She sipped from the puddle at the curb, as I passed with wife on board our motorbike to get fresh baked bread– a habit of ours.

    Oh! My heart was saddened, not just by what I saw. Being 75, maybe a little slower of wit, I pledged to my conscious, next time I will not be a passerby to a chance to share what I have, no matter the speed of my own mission. The motorbike breaks quite well and safely so.

  6. Madamidola Oladele says:

    I’ve alwaz said dat poetry speaks. Dis piece justifies my claim. An open ended poem wit d reader in mind. Kudos, Sis.

  7. vozey says:

    Very interesting. I’ve been exploring a book that will look into the lives of folks living on the streets. I felt that resonating in this short poem.

    What is sad is that some people are so cruel to them. So utterly cruel.

    • dfunpen says:

      Thanks vozey,
      The same happens to the homeless everywhere! People neglect them, people avoid them, some make fun of them and some question why they couldn’t have done better with their lives. But the Bible says we should care for them because they will always be around us.

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