The town was a quite loud boisterous place,
The market set an erratic pace.
Beggars lie strewn in alleyways, ignored
Rejects, from their mouths desperate pleas poured.
Little care was shown to their dismay,
Why they were ignored I cannot say.
Into this town a noble Knight was riding,
Going to where a friend should be residing.
His noble stature brought great rewards,
Money sought by his bravery with swords.
The beggars stopped him on his travels,
To spare a coin, bread, anything they babbled.
But nary a glace was spared their way,
And so their pitiful attempts were slayed.
His Noble oath was too long forgotten,
To take care of those so downtrodden.
The Squire that by his side did abide,
Was appalled but let the feeling subside.
He did not want to speak down on his master,
For the Knight was in a battle of words, faster.
He stole a look at hollow broken eyes,
To show he did not share the same despise.
Then did he, purposefully drop his purse
To keep them from their cold hungry curse.
Away they went, swallowed by townspeople,
None, in regal prowess could be their equal.
They trod through town until the destination,
Franklin’s the merriest house in the nation.
The evening was spent tasting good wine,
With the most delicious food they did dine.
Never a thought crossed the Knights mind,
What those poor people, for food they did find.
But the Squire was happy in his decision,
Was proud of the charity he had given.
All Knights had a code to follow closely,
Although some Knights follow them fleetingly.
The honor of Knights was surely failing,
Soon Knights will not be worth hailing.
Then Squire knew and followed this Knight code,
Hoping to make more chivalrous his abode.
He knew two hands were worth preserving,
One for yourself, the other for others serving.