He is everything I fear: <br />The ripped remains of once <br />costly clothes, that hang <br />from his light lifeless limbs <br />make me feel hungry. <br />He stinks of piss, piss <br />that follows him where ever <br />he goes, piss that <br />seeps through his <br />skin, back into his bladder <br />to repeat the proccess again. <br />His matted hair, each strand <br />clings to another-rain washed, <br />greasy, weeping and dead. <br />I give him all the money that <br />hides within my pocket, <br />I can see others hiding their smiles <br />of admiration, thanking <br />God that he did not and will <br />not approach them. What <br />they do not know is that I <br />paid him to leave me be, to <br />stop this overactive mind from <br />scaring me so, my future might <br />be his present, maybe once <br />long ago he thought the same <br />thoughts as I. I paid him not out <br />of love for another human but <br />out of my own selfish fear.<br /><br />Not Long Left<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-meeting-with-a-beggar/
