He stands on a streetcorner <br />with a cup half-empty, <br />and coins are tossed to him <br />like a seal in shallow water, <br />and he is hungry for another meal. <br /> <br />His eyes of hope catch your glance <br />if you are looking, <br />and if turn away <br />you will never know his pain. <br /> <br />His full-time job is survival. <br />Though he is dry <br />and thirsty from the sun, <br />his legs are tired with no chair, <br />and though sometimes <br />he feels like giving up, <br />he asks again. <br /> <br />I saw his face and his gratitude, <br />and though my gift was small, <br />he said 'thank you' and he moved on. <br />There was another car <br />with another driver, <br />and like mine, <br />his heart was throbbing with compassion.<br /><br />Antoinette Kopperfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-throbbing-heart/
