A Gypsy's Sorrow

I saw you risk your life today for a quarter
I’m not sure if I’d risk mine for a million
While we argue about our rights and country
You don’t worry about believing a politician
You crossed a highway for a drink of water
While I tried prevent an accident
You seemed at ease with the danger
All I could think of was your predicament
As you walked between my gaze and suicide
I realized the poor have no political philosophy
You cannot digest platitudes or bootstraps
There is no difference between shame or nobility
I wondered what he thought about patriotism
His scars told me of the price that he had paid
“Is it the man in whom you believe or your country?
And what of the mistakes buried where a soldier is laid?”
I wondered what he thought about racism
And I saw how the sun had changed the color of his skin
“What difference,” he asked, “Is measured by what your eyes see?”
“Do you prejudge a man and refuse to be his friend?”
I wondered what he thought about religion
And his bare feet made me think of what Jesus said
“You ignored me when I stood on the corner”
And I knew that the truth lived where bare feet bled
I wondered what he thought about us all
And I saw the indifference in his dispirited stares
“If there is any good to being a man like me
It is to remind you of all your hidden fears”
As I passed he considered the metal that could end his life
And yet the man with nothing chose to live for tomorrow
He had no hope yet clung to the notion of survival
Is a band of gypsies now a sign of our coming sorrow?

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