I can’t handle my finances. Is this my sin?
Is my genetic makeup at one with my fate?
I could give you advise on your portfolio.
Can you spare but a dollar? My spirit is low
Because my soul is in a deplorable state.
It’s a long story. I don’t know where to begin.
Do you use the word ‘needy?’ I know what it means.
There are many things folks use to denigrate me.
One who sits on the street where most people will spit
Is a burden too ugly and grossly unfit
To be part of a progressive society
Where all are well-adjusted producing machines.
Every cell has its half-life. My spirit is whole
And meets every cell half way on most of my days.
Until they have gone silent, I’ll do but my best
To accept what is helpful and ignore the rest.
Judgement will be upon me for my errant ways
As it will be upon you for what you extol.