Outside the mall yesterday,
I said, “Sorry,” and kept walking
But you continued to beg,
To my dismay.
“Not even a dollar?”
You whined behind me
With a drunken slur.
“Not even a dollar…
I’m very sorry, sir.”
“Oh, I see how it is.”
You called out to me,
I continued walking,
But you yelled:
“That’s how you’re gonna be?”
“It is indeed, ‘how I’m
going to be’” I wish I would
have shouted, because
I know of free shelters,
And free dress and free eat.
You inconsiderate, homeless bastard.
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