He asked if I could spare any change, as I walked by.
I immediately looked into my purse to see what I could find.
I turned around and approached him.
This time from behind.
I watched him for a second, before I actually said hi.
In return Pain, desperation, hunger, loneliness, and shame.
Were the emotions from that mans eyes, in which I felt.
They were all too Familiar.
Almost like I was looking back at myself.
My measly money won’t save, or medicate the spiritually unwell.
Only faith, can keep our stomachs and spirits fed beyond good health.
But I know firsthand what its like to not have a pot to piss in.
A fridge with the light on, but the food is missing.
A pantry with shelves that have never reached the capacity of the weight that can be held.
A sleeping bag that’s itchy, on a cold dirty rug.
A coffee pot with no coffee, just bugs.
A bank account overdrawn and no way to pay it up.
Sometimes you have to do things you are not proud of.
To get the damn bare minimum!!!!
Jumping through hoops, some rich dude requires from you.
So you can collect millions, while I wait in line for government food.
Joining waiting list after waiting list to be told there are needier than you.
Waiting at the county building, begging them to approve papers that eventually come back to collect their dues.
Nothing is free.
Not even free food.
So yeah, money wont fix the broken.
Wont feed the poor.
Institutionalize the needy.
But, it may help someone more than the value of the currency.
Sometimes it just takes one person, and their kind generosity.
For the spirit to be free from the idea that anyone who has more, is better than any he or she.
Ive been there.
That mindset is hard to not explore, when day after day you wake up on dirty floor. Wondering, what kind of pain your body, and mind have in store.
And poor, it’s a mentality you fight to abhor.
Even the richest humans have the ability to be poor.
But, I want to believe the ones who suffer now, will have golden gate entries to their new palace, that has been waiting.
Pain-free.
Hunger aches, lonely days are never to be felt when in his kingdom of grace.
That man looked at me, his eyes welled up with tears and said thank you for noticing I am here.
I replied most people are petrified of the reality outside there little filtered lives.
So, unless you have gone without, and know emptiness inside out.
Begging for services you are entitled to, but no one will help you out.
You will never understand how it feels to need to have to ask for a fucking handout.
I consider it paying it forward, not charity not for clout.
I do it, for all of those who saw me at my fucking lowest and actually helped me out.
Sierra Mazzucca's Poetry site 
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