To The Person Who Stole My Purse Poem by Mary Spain
To The Person Who Stole My Purse
I'd like to think you needed it much more
Than I - that generosity had been
Drawn out of me despite myself. For your
Mean act illuminates where I was mean.
You wouldn't have acquired so much had I
But helped the old man I saw yesterday.
Instead, with head half-turned, I hurried by
So that my conscience wouldn't hear hm play
Forgotten music on his violin.
You probably stole out of devilment,
And blew the lot on cigarettes or gin,
And never valued what the money meant.
But if you pass that old man in the Strand,
For my sake, please, put something in his hand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 9:01:19 PM # 1.0.0.1119
But if you pass that old man in the Strand, For my sake, please, put something in his hand. Quite amazed by the beauty of the poem. I am intrigued by the coincidence of our thoughts. On the 11th of July last, my wallet was pick pocketed. There was quite some money and more importantly, there were about 5/6 id cards of various memberships and a debit card. For a moment I felt demoralized, but after a while, similar thoughts as you have mentioned flashed through my mind. Some thoughts were floating in my head for some days to give them the shape of a poem, but I am not as resourceful as you are. Because of the similarity of our thoughts, this poem has really touched me deep. You have spoken my words, as if!