A Paupers Prayer Poem by Anand Brown

He stood then bent over
As if drawn to his bag
Stationed at his feet.
He scratched in his bag
As if hurried by unseen forces.

He stood up slowly
Like his back was very frail.
He touched his blonde hair
Now discoloured black and drapped with grease.

His clothes hung on his body's
Offensively thin frame,
Swinging to and fro
By the tender sea breeze.

He approached us slowly
With caution
Like a lone lion
Approaching a foreign pride.

He streched out his thin arms
And brought his hands together.
He parted his lips, exposing his teeth
And asked for change.

We searched the corners
Of our pockets
And gathered a few coins
And offered it to him.

He took the coins
And bowed his head
In great appreciation
And walked away.

As he moved away
From us he said:
I pray
For people like you.

We stood speechless
And confused
But
I understood

Humans are interconnected
And I am only as happy
As a paupers most desperate
Prayer.