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!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
pain..pain..everywhere................dissolve.............