I wander by the wayside
You can easily find me
With the alms-bowl in my eye
Hungry, starved and famished
I ask unashamedly, though
I know I’ll be turned away
I beg and plead
I do not ask for your life
I do not ask for a ride
I do not ask to be fed
Just some coins of pity
Few words of comfort
And some leftover love
You might throw away
I’ll hoard as manna for life!