My nose is running when I see him
squatting in Oxford Road.His nose is running too,
but he doesn’t seem to know.
What’s his name?
How did he get to this?
He looks very hard.
How long has he been there?
He must be very cold.
Where does he get his clothes?
It must have a name.
How does he feed it?
Does he know I don’t know?
Should I give him something?
Will he speak to me
apart from begging?
But you know he will.
They always do, they have to.
“Any change mate?”
And you really are.
But you have some really.
You think he’s got a cheek.
with a sideways look,
and the niggling doubt
that he knows you have.
I read this, this morning -it's spot on. You completely capture everything you think in the few moments you walk past someone who is asking for change. The exact questions and feelings as you approach them, as you make your apologies and as you walk on feeling guilty and questioning yourself and how everything works. I walk down Oxford Road a lot and think these things every time, yet I never do anything about it, I get to work and forget about it til the next time. Maybe I'm a bit shit, but I don't think I'm the only one. Nice one Ray :) Hope to read more soon x
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