The Beggars On The Street

She’s Young,

She’s White,

She’s A She.

 

I Am Touched By Her Sign And Spoken Pleas.

I Empty My Pockets Of Change,

And Pour The Coins Into Her Outstretched Hand.

 

Why?

 

he’s old,

he’s black,

he’s a he.

 

i recoil in horror when he looks my way.

i lower my head and walk on past,

pretending I can’t see him.

 

why?

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