his unwashed hair blows in the breeze,
cuting thru his ragged clothes.
he outstretches his hand, 
and asks for salvation.
i have none.
you open your bag,
to offer less then u have.

  .10c
  ...my life has been a waste
  .25c
  ...leetching off of others
  .30c
  ...i failed without trying
  .40c
  ...and i starve alone
  .65c
  ...why must it be like this
  .75c
  ...why am i forsaken
  .96c
  ...what am i doing here
  $1.00
  ...this cycle of damnation

we walk away, 
and hear his voice,
echoing his call for salvation;
finding only frustraion.