The Begger

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    The Begger





                                The Beggar

                         I am sick and lonely.
                         My home is the street
                         And my appearence is unkempt.
      
                         To passers-by I beg money,
                         Falling on deaf ears.
                         The few friends I may have are astonished.

                         They notice my cheeks are red.
                         How should they know I smile.
                         Is it the redness of the wine?
                   

                        
            

                         

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    Hiporlacking commented on The Begger

    02-28-2010

    We seem to touch on similiar subjects...I dig observational poetry. Friend me?
    Reply to Comment

    lsabeth

    02/28/2010

    Thank you hopor for reading my poem The Begger

    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    lsabeth’s Poems (3)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    My Life 0 04/26/2010
    Winter 3 02/28/2010
    The Begger 2 12/09/2009
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