The Begging Option

By Lynn Ockersz

Solitary, skeletal and grim-faced,

He remains in his car park vigil,

Though it’s some time since night set in,

But the money he’s been cadging,

From shoppers brushing past him,

Falls well short of what he needs,

For, his hearth’s flames,

Must be prevented from dying,

And bills that need to be paid,

Are dangerously piling-up,

But the sharpest pain within him,

Comes on his recognizing,

That he’s masking his true identity,

By getting into this act of begging;

For, he is a state sector retiree,

Who has been pushed into the streets,

By a pension that’s been steadily thinning,

But not so long ago he worked honestly for a living.