The Beggar Poem by Leo Jones,Jr

A beggar stands resolute
On a busy through-fare.
Once proud countenance
Ravaged by time and circumstance!
Figure imposing, as if cut from oak!
People pass, oblivious, transient as smoke.
Clothes clean, threadbare, gone to seed.
Eyes avert, no one wants to see his need.
The plainitive wail of notes from a saxophone!
The tortured ululations of a soul forever alone!
My soul is seized by this message so clear-
For on his nut-brown countenance I detect a tear.
I stop to marvel at this genius in our midst!
I put money into the hat of he the 'Angels' have kissed!
For around his neck there hang a sign;
'Please help, it is May and I am blind.'