When There is No Money to Spare.
I bore a lesson in the reaches of poverty. A poem.

I passed her on the street, huddled in open despair.
She gazed past me, a phantom, as if I wasn’t there.
I gallantly wanted to reach out and tender a speckle of hope,
She held her cup upward, her banter pleading charity’s trope.
The feet rumbled and shuffled past, without the baseness of thought.
She was cast, faceless, upon the hard stones, her life hard bought.
Their blinkered eyes glanced away, too intimidated to be involved
She cared not, she held her dreams and in her higher world she evolved.
With no alms to spare, I knelt beside her, eager to speak.
She cracked a weathered smile, sunshine soon graced her cheek.
When engaged, I saw this modest caring was her greatest boon.
She wanted to chatter, her youth-filled voice, the sweetest tune.
Enthralled in conversation, she burst into colorful life,
She shed the carcass of poverty, discarded all manner of strife.
It was simple human contact, the idea that perhaps someone may care,
She laughed and chuckled, her humor, her goodwill, had ample to spare
Now, when I see a lonely heart, it is not metal coins I tempt to give.
It share a greater treasure, the spoken caring for another soul to live.
Ten Second Takeaway:
“The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention.”
Oscar Wilde
Thanks for reading. With so many spiraling into trouble, spare a moment to listen to another.





