The Instant Beggar

By Lynn Ockersz

Finally shaking off his hesitance,

Though the burning shame remains,

The elder staggers in the dark,

To the noisy door of his jaded house,

Now that his power and water lines,

Have been with no warning curtly cut,

His aim being to hit the ill-lit streets,

And to beg for some financial relief,

From passers-by with a kind heart,

To pay his ever piling utility bills,

Now stunning him like bleeding flesh,

But the sight of his despairing wife,

Crouched in grief in a chair in the dark,

Shedding scalding tears over their lot,

Brings the sharpest pain to his heart,

Making him plead for early deliverance,

From this living-death by rulers wrought.