To the less fortunate

I looked at the eyes staring back at me,
Such a strange little man, an oddity.
His strong putrid smell assaulted my nose
His outstretched hands were filthy and gross,
He was white

“Got a quarter miss?” I heard a voice say,

I stared straight ahead not looking his way,
From my peripheral vision I was taken aback,
It was an unkempt dirty young man, thin as a rack
He was black.

“Can you help me get something to eat?”
I looked at dull eyes and red swollen feet,
Matted hair, caked makeup and lots of bags
Glimpses of former beauty now turned hag,
It was a woman.

This I saw on my walk in a modernized town,
Forgotten people, misfits, lost, and trodden down.
Someone’s Dad or brother or maybe one’s child,
Someone’s mother or sister who’d lost her smile.

So I gave to black and I gave to white,
I know the impoverished have no might.
More fortunate than some, I work every day,
But, in the blink of an eye all can be taken away.

Copyrighted © Ebonii

Author’s note: Life is so unpredictable.. Thank God for small blessings.

Ebonii