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Array ( [sid] => 36754 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => THE PANHANDLER [time] => 2004-02-29 04:36:57 [hometext] => just tried to step into the shoes of a panhandler....kindly read n comment............ [bodytext] => On my window ,
She waves her hand.
Tattered and torn
Is what her body adorns.

She begs to all ,
A few give her some ,
The others push to make her fall.

The light is still red ,
And my car is at the stop.
I change the roles,
And find myself on my toes.

The heat withers me ,
And I pull my shirt to cover me more
The more I stretch , the more it tore.

I stand aside and curse my fate,
I curse and curse and cogitate.
And then I feel ,
Some pricking eyes looking beyond my shirt.

Adrift I walk,
With no aim ,no goal.
Who m I , a body without a soul?

They stare,they ogle
Desire to have me
I run ,I rush before they overpower me.

No shelter that can hide me ,
No food to fill me.
I shiver at the thought,
When I suddenly see her beside me.

Oh! That wasn’t me ,
The roles were changed ,
Iam in,
And she is the one out; with her box of tin

Deprived by fate
And rights denied for some sin.
He denied her love and the buck ,
Made her a panhandler ,
Such was her luck.

[comments] => 5 [counter] => 326 [topic] => 21 [informant] => bhavnas [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
THE PANHANDLER

Contributed by bhavnas on Sunday, 29th February 2004 @ 04:36:57 AM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems



On my window ,
She waves her hand.
Tattered and torn
Is what her body adorns.

She begs to all ,
A few give her some ,
The others push to make her fall.

The light is still red ,
And my car is at the stop.
I change the roles,
And find myself on my toes.

The heat withers me ,
And I pull my shirt to cover me more
The more I stretch , the more it tore.

I stand aside and curse my fate,
I curse and curse and cogitate.
And then I feel ,
Some pricking eyes looking beyond my shirt.

Adrift I walk,
With no aim ,no goal.
Who m I , a body without a soul?

They stare,they ogle
Desire to have me
I run ,I rush before they overpower me.

No shelter that can hide me ,
No food to fill me.
I shiver at the thought,
When I suddenly see her beside me.

Oh! That wasn’t me ,
The roles were changed ,
Iam in,
And she is the one out; with her box of tin

Deprived by fate
And rights denied for some sin.
He denied her love and the buck ,
Made her a panhandler ,
Such was her luck.





Copyright © bhavnas ... [ 2004-02-29 04:36:57]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: THE PANHANDLER (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Sunday, 29th February 2004 @ 02:31:52 PM AEST
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An extremely vivid description of the life so many people on the streets live day and night. How sad, for that could be any one of us. No one sets out on purpose to be homeless. Toss a few cents here and there to them. What we throw on our dressers could mean the difference between life and death for them.

Marvelous write,
Rita


Re: THE PANHANDLER (User Rating: 1 )
by venkat on Monday, 1st March 2004 @ 01:31:55 AM AEST
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Very good poem..wonderful description. venkat


Re: THE PANHANDLER (User Rating: 1 )
by kalika_vidya on Wednesday, 3rd March 2004 @ 02:41:50 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
"The heat withers me ,
And I pull my shirt to cover me more
The more I stretch , the more it tore."..nice description. K


Re: THE PANHANDLER (User Rating: 1 )
by hope82 on Saturday, 27th March 2004 @ 11:23:25 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
This poem is so true. people that have should help the people that don,t have but most don,t. They just worry about theirselves. great poem.


Re: THE PANHANDLER (User Rating: 1 )
by kenwells on Thursday, 2nd December 2004 @ 07:41:35 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
This is so effective because you really do bring the reader into the life of the panhandler. Powerful




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