Afrikkan Beggar

Sprawled in the dust outside Syrian store 
A target for small children, dogs and flies 
A heap of verminous rags and matted hair 

Sometimes he shows his stumps of yellow teeth 
The curse of pitty, a grotesque mask of death 
With hands like claws about his begging bowl 

Lost in the trackless jungle of his pain 
Clutching the pitless red earth in vain 
And whimpering like a stricken animal 

How the other half live-so much yet so little