Happy Empty Hands

I saw a beggar on the street,
tattered clothes,
drooling mouth,
pregnant eyes,
sad face,
resembled dead hope.

His hands reached out to me,
I passed,
Then guilt hit me,
I turned,
His eyes lit,
His lips curved into a smile,
I saw he needed more than a penny,
more than just a 'sorry',
So I made a comfort by his side,
and sat with him for a minute,
the meeting could wait.

In my bag I had lunch,
I knew it wasn't enough,
you know these economic times,
we sat under the noon sun,
its heat warming our food,
and the conversation too.

He told of rain and care free spirits of the city,
he told of the nights he spent coiled in the streets,
He told of kids laughing at him,
with their hands full of dropping chips,
He told of the scorch and burn of noon,
He told with no tear in his eye,
said he was used to it as breathing itself.

He told of a brutal lock up,
rounded up by the police,
before the arrival of a public figure,
they said he was the stain in a detergent advert,
After a weekend on the cold cell floors,
he was kicked out,
on a different street.

I had a hard time following up,
I once thought I was unlucky,
Yet here was a guy,
who went through it all,
and yet saw great hope ahead,
he said each day he saw a potential Samaritan pass,
yet all turned out to be Pharisees and Levites.

He said he had realized,
people helped those who helped them,
or those who seemed could help them
He said he saw men getting conned millions
by men in suits
after they had denied him a simple lunch.

He said it with a chuckle,
and a mouthful of the lunch.
I asked him of the fake beggars,
those that arrived in Prados before the city woke up.
He said they were there,
and looked as hopeless as he,
but he still said he was better of,
He begged for food and he got,
that's all he wanted, or afforded at least,
yet they had all and still begged,
They were poor at heart he said.

I had to leave, as my phone claimed,
I knew as a Christian I was to offer shelter,
but I knew as a Kenyan,
that making promises was a relief too,
so I promised to pass by again,
He gave me that look of -
There is no shame if you don't, You won't be the first
But all in all,
I walked away,
Half hopping half hoping,
that our Government will do something.