Amongst the to and fro, of a city’s ebb and flow,
One lonely figure lay, her sadness on full display.
My heart to hers it flew, all eyes from hers withdrew,
Her scrawling remained unread, and still for coin she begged.
With serest hair as pale as flax, and rips and tears about her slacks,
She sat cross legged and bare of feet, alway the pavement was her seat.
I saw from far her woeful plight, and her countenance, far from bright;
What could I do but offer aid, to one who had been by fate unmade?
I kindly took her side, dull eyes now opened wide,
In plain sight of all, the only one to heed her call.
“Take what little I have to give, though ‘tis hardly ‘nough on which to live”
Quoth I whilst reaching for my purse, as if my coin would lift her curse.
A frail hand outstretched for mine, covered in brown filth and grime,
And in its bony structure I lay, all the coin I had that day.
I curled her fingers to a fist, prest my hands ‘gainst her wrists,
Looked deep into the deep green eyes, the kind most men would often prize.
I lingered upon her freckled face, as if a princess by fate misplaced,
Then into those green eyes so round, which swiftly cast she to the ground.
I could tell that once her cheeks were rose, though now they showed the years of woes;
And though her nose remained upturned, still the crowds would only spurn.
Her arm fell swiftly to her side, as if by exertion had been made tired,
Then hand met pocket quick as light, and all the coin was gone from sight.
There I thought her to speak her mind, and praise me as not to seem unkind,
But no words from her lips did pass, that sallow and ill fated lass.
I did not do it for want of token, only to help one who seemed so broken;
Assistance was its own reward, being human to one who society abhorred.
Before I rose, she met my eye, and her gratitude one could not deny;
Her smile repaid me a thousand fold, worth more than her weight in gold.
It was a look of tender love, which her existence was devoid of.
In that instant we made a connection; one that transcended mere coin collection.
We opened our hearts and I felt her pain, though I knew I would never see her again;
That beggar on the corner of the street, whose life would never again be complete.
I often wonder how her destiny unfurled, and how she is fairing in such a cruel world,
And whether or not she ever found peace; or perhaps her own special form of release.
All I know is that moment we shared, was a moment for which I was most unprepared,
For even right now I can see her on the street, the nameless beggar with a smile so sweet.
“Man is dear to man; the poorest poor long for some moments in a weary life when they can know and feel that they have been, themselves, the fathers and the dealers-out of some small blessings; have been kind to such as needed kindness, for this single cause, that we have all of us one human heart.”