The Song Of Alms Poem by J.R. Holmes

Amid a bustling marketplace
On the busy streets of Hong Kong,
A horrid image, far from grace,
Sought me like a terrible song
Shoved into my exquisite ears.

I saw…

A desperate face of a crippled man
With a crippled heart that sung a song that
Asked for alms from those from a well-off clan.
Non-stop he bows to the money-fat cats
Who scurry the streets to meet their own needs.

Deep are the hollow pink that once cradled his eyes.
Friendless is the right stump lacking forearm as peer.
His crow-shaped feet cannot hoist him up as he cries
When the coin gravitates to the bucket with tears
From merciful cats who dropp by once a full moon.

He feels the winter warm breeze lingering from the warm cats
Till he sings the song that asks for alms which begins like this:
"Oh Please, PLEEAAASE! Spare me a dime for me to dine! "