Even Beggars Have Feelings Poem by P K Joy

Your car had to stop
at the busy road-crossing
Traffic control’s red signal had
imposed an unwelcome waiting.
Beggars rushed to car riders
with no sense of qualms.
I too ran and stretched my bowl
to you, and you gave me alms.
But, you gave me alms with a mutter
and a dirty look in your eyes,
A look of hate and contempt,
that pierced into my abyss.
It shattered me. I trembled.
The bowl fell and the coins rolled.
I left them there and walked to the footpath.
My tears rolled.
I sat down and moaned
and my sullen cheeks soaked.
My bad health, my poverty and
adverse fate I cursed.

I wish you hadn’t given me
any alms at all, Oh madam!
Instead had only refrained from
that dirty look of condemn.
Or else, a much smaller amount
with a little bit of sympathy
Would have got you blessing,
besides making this beggar happy.