Background: Inspired by an experience I had a few weeks ago when I walked passed two beggars who asked for money. My response was to politely say “sorry” and walk past. The thing is, I knew I had £5 in my pocket, but I made the assumption (like a lot of people, unless I’m alone) that they would use it for other illicit or unlawful means than food. But what if I was wrong? This poem challenges my prejudices from their perspective.
The lights shine bright in the city that never sleeps,
Yet as one of its sons, my heart and soul weeps,
World whizzes on by in its gluttonous deceit,
Not caring that the life within me slowly seeps.
Harsh winter, cold nights, begging others for mercy,
My existence unnoticed, and it really does hurt me,
Pretending to look busy, they ignore and walk past,
Left asking myself “how long will this pain last?”
Justifying their position, they assume I’m an addict,
Not knowing I’ve been clean for weeks, maybe a dozen?
Don’t judge me, I beg, as we’ve only just met,
A day in my shoes, you’ll say it’s much harder, I bet.
It’s cold, you’re ignored, and exposed to the elements,
Abandoned in negligence, considered irrelevant,
It’s harsh and its dark, looking out for fresh hope,
Instead of being caught up in the snare of blazing dope.
Just halt for a minute! Let me make this clear,
It’s not all my fault the reason that I am here,
If changes could be made, then believe me I would,
But for now, please view me the best way that you could.
© 2015, by Gome