I walked passed the poor

I walked down the street,
and smiled as the poor passed by.
I had long yellow teeth,
and a glistening gleam in my eye.

I patted dusty shoulders,
and shook the stained dirty hands.
I asked them of the future,
and they did not have any plans.

I wondered why the poor,
cast their eyes down that way.
Why when I gave a smile,
a frown responded in dismay.

I wondered why the poor,
allowed this life to stay.
They woke with a curse,
and with curses end their day.

I continued to walk,
passed a long bread line.
And at the very end,
was the spot that was mine.

I waited patiently,
laughing with those near by.
When they spoke sorely of their life,
I paused to asked them why.

Taking my cut of bread,
and the small bowl of soup.
I waved goodbye,
To the little ragged troop.

And then started walking,
down a day labor line,
I saw a spot at the end,
and said that spot is mine.

I left the poor behind,
and joined the tired throng.
Who worked while out of work,
and kept their spirits strong.

At night when I climbed,
into my shelters little bed.
Thoughts of the poor,
ran slowly through my head.

I had left the poor behind,
yet had no home at all.
I had left the poor behind,
when I started walking tall.

For though I be poor in pocket,
my soul will not take pity,
I will not let my luck,
drag me to those trenches of the city.

I woke up with the poor,
and left them all behind.
Because today is a day in a life,
and today, that life is mine.