'The Beggar'

THE BEGGAR

Woeful pray'r to the beggar, who sat by the bank .
I wonder where do you live ?
Oh! perhaps by the alley.
The child by your arms, soundly asleep
Who doesn't know the world's a wicked;
Has mirrored my wicked crystal clear in front .
Just a twenty or less, hand out with a pang ,
That really, poverty is in my heart.

Of every you received; does it favour ?
Wonder when I can't go a day without ;
You manage to go for a week.
Attend upon a change - all through the seasons,
Of every bawdy passers who ne'er mind ,
And to those who bend to care;
Wish you'd do a little for them-
Hold out ' em what's priceless lies under the poorly patched coat.

'em priest sermon the gospel ;
But ne'er have they any compassion ; Won't spare a scrap ,
This not my drift to black eye .
You poor are most generous :
What's unsweetened savour sweet,
Ne'er crazed for castle nor be a prowler,
But satisfied with clang on your bowl - I called undainty saint.
The worst things in life are spare free to us.
_Krokrülhü Rhakho