Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2020
How crooked my hands,
Gnarled knuckles and bone,
Fingers bent forward,
Palms carved out of stone.

Yes I'm a beggar,
How well my part played,
My hand out in hope
Of a penny mislaid.

How many times,
Can you avert and walk by,
Yes,I'm homeless and helpless
And I also ask why.
How long will I ignore the poor? And why?
Hank Helman
Written by
Hank Helman
   Mike Adam and victoria
Please log in to view and add comments on poems