Am destitute, my organs left like a thief’s loot
Am mute, tired, dirty and covered with soot
In the cold and chilly morning
I sit on this dirty but busy stairs
Awaiting this one man who walks up and down
Dropping a coin and comforting persons like me

But this man, never dropped a coin in my cup today
Despite my remorseful gaze and piteous ways
Despite the chill and cold that penetrates my bones
Yet he is well endowed, merciful, ever present and well dressed
He is always busy on this street, dropping coins, clothing and wiping our tears
He is also a doctor, one with infinite knowledge to treat our destitute selves
But today, he said no to me
He dropped nothing in my cup nor stopped by my stair

In this long begging stairs I sit at the bottom
I Long to be at the top
Am jealous of those who have made it there
All this man requires is for us to give thanks and be like him
But most of them at the top are arrogant
They live in their carnal minds and enjoy the fresh air
Forgetting that this man was good to them when they were lame
And healed them of their disabilities
‘Why do you let them be? Why continue to drop even more coins on their cups? After all they do to you?
While me impoverished, lost, poor, destitute and in cold gets nothing?
‘My love is sufficient for you.’ He said
The coins I dropped yesterday and the tiny surgery I did
Can sustain you today for I did not give you an injection of timidity
But one that will give you strength for today
And this worn out and thin blanket
Will keep you warm
Remember, there are many who haven’t made it to the stairs yet
So be thankful that you are here