The Beggered Voice That Is Mine

It is different then from now a begger comes, where I live now snow that never falls. I seldom speak, but word's that when they come, cause they whom fill an empty hand a look that few can meet. Where I used to hide no other's dwell, each city has pulled up and killed the bushes and spaced the trees to wide to keep the rain off of our heads. A poet's lot in life in any life if poor without their love of mind, An early death the elements can find. A beggered poet looks away in shame, his daughter left behind to young to know what he gave up, for her to read and one day find. A heart that's full of love cannot sustain an empty mind, or that beggered voice she one day hears When that voice is mine.