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Beggars

1 min read

Enslaved to the dirt

From the moment of birth.

Do we only live to die

And unite with the earth?


A spec on the canvas.

A fraction of infinity.

What’s the point to all this

When it ends so quickly?


We wander this world,

With a hole in our chest.

Can we pack this infinite void

With the things we love best?


Thinking us more filled

We help the ill fed.

But aren’t we just beggars

Telling beggars wher...

Poetry