The Beggar

Where is the beggar that frequents this place? I've searched high and low but can't see his face. I have here some cash to give to that man So I really must find him if I can. Yesterday he asked, could I spare a dime? I shrugged and moved on; said I had no time. I've thought long and hard, and I have been cruel, And so today I will become God's tool. Ten dollars I have, to help that poor guy And that's why, you see, I really must try To find him right now. Can you tell me how? So sorry, my friend, but you are too late. Such are the twistings and turnings of fate: Poor Joe starved to death at twenty past eight.