He looks into space
With large saddened eyes
Shivering like an aspen
Seated in the lee of the wall
His begging bowl is empty
Everyone seems to ignore
His cries of hunger and cold
Even in the city of his dreams
He had scrimped and scraped
To reach this place as he was told
No one really starves in the city
There is always a kindly soul
To drop a note or a coin in the bowl
But alas to his consternation
He realizes that all are just too busy
To notice a poor man who is hungry
