I walk past this beggar, once or twice a week,
Sitting in the same spot, smoking, or having something to eat.
I always think you bludger.
He's to old to get a job,
But I can't help thinking, he's just a bludging slob.
Today I stopped to talk to him,
And when I looked into his eyes,
All I saw was sadness, much to my surprise.
He took my gift with Grace,
Never said a word.
Now I sit here thinking,
What a judging turd.
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Author:
Valiantstar (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 25th, 2023 02:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
Offline)
Comments3
A fine write 2.
Excellent.
So easy to judge
There is a story behind everyone’s eyes.
Great writing
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