Dickensian

Oh, he definately was an unfortunate chap
Matted hair, filthy nails and a threadbare cap
I tried not to stare, but he caught my eye
Sitting cross-legged, such a skinny, wee guy

Now, I wasn't in the mood to give up my cash
Huh, we all know 'they' use it for booze and hash
And there's so many beggars shakin' flimsy cups
To tell you the truth, geez, it drives me nuts

And so l have a tendency try to ignore these folk
Taking up the pavement space, arguing the toss
Probably just fighting over who'll smoke that last fag
Actually, sometimes, it makes me feel so sad

I wonder how these human beings got to be this way
Left to their devices, opportunists, every day
Figuring out ways to top-up their choice of drug
While some folk live in luxury, our government, for one

But something really moved me when we looked at each other
Did he have a family, any friends or a mother
The mound of poly bags told me 'I'm genuine, all right
I need to find a B and B so l can spend the night'

Handing him a fiver, trying not to touch
I felt ashamed for having stuff, a home and all that guff
His face was grimy, teeth were grey, he'd holes in both his shoes
Poor thing, what's HIS story, it'll be full of the blues

Thankfully it'll be Spring soon, buddy