From What the Rich Man Shuns, to Rich Mansions.

From What The Rich Man Shuns

Seldom do people discern 
eloquence under a threadbare cloak,
and yet they cherish the tattered rags 
they wear over the alternative,
which is to be naked to the bitter, 
biting cold that many others face.

Castles can be a cardboard 
refrigerator box to a homeless man,
fine dining experiences, a dumpster 
behind an all-you-can-eat buffet,
a holy soul can be found praising God 
for the holy soles of his shoes,
add a bit of newspaper stuffing, 
some ratty socks and
their feet are in heaven.

I lived in my car once
when the brakes went bad,
and I had no job,
three months in the back seat, 
mooching off of family and friends,
I thought I was truly at 
my lowest point in life, 
till I saw a man sleeping,
on a steam grate in the inner city 
on my way to collect unemployment.

Suddenly my car became
the Waldorf Astoria 
compared to his humble abode.
I slept much better that night
on cold blue vinyl,
in a fetal position.

There are worse things then being poor, 
when all your pride is stripped,
to the point where you have no possessions, 
and no hope of gaining more.

When your babies bloated belly mocks 
the emptiness inside their flesh,
and echoes the vacancies in 
your provisions and your weary soul,
as their faint cries haunt you in 
the wee hours you spend sleepless,
till they wind down to a gasp or two 
and then fall silent forevermore,
in some third world country where 
infant graves are as common as dust.

Hungry faces passing daily gaze in sorrow through

the brightly lit windows

of some five-star restaurants

where the well-to-do

suckle shrimp and wine,

shoving plates half full away,

to be scraped into trash bins

in wasteful globs,

while maitre d's push

beggars from the panes,

on pipe stem legs lest they disturb,

diners burping up more calories

then the poor consume in weeks. 

God must sit in abject horror 
watching those he blessed with wealth.
passing by so many needy,
apathetic to the cause.

He created men with free will, 
allowing each to make a choice, 
between charity or greedy, 
sadly many choose the latter,
letting tiny children suffer, 
for a Lexus or a yacht.

But the mansions that come later, 
after life has reached its end,
will be given to the humble, 
those who once knew only shacks,
and their neighbors will be all of us 
who've donated hard earned cash,
with the homeless and the hungry.

What a vast estate we'll share,
but for those who chose possessions 
here on earth over goodwill,
makes one wonder

what God has waiting for them 
when they reach paradise.