A Fate Worse Than Death

I sat across from the bridge
And watched as people
Took the long way round
To avoid the beger
The one’s that walked by him
Looked through him as if he didn’t exist
I thought to myself
How does one’s life gets to this stage?
With no one to call on for a bed peace
To feel the cold of the wind
Yet have no relief of warmth
A fate worse than death
For even the dead is given attention
Dressed immaculately and covered in jewels
Given a send off befitting of royalty
The beger is ignored
Taunted daily with worthless coins
Thrown at his find
To be alive but to be worthless
And given no attention
That is a fate worse than death
His efforts lame, his reach short
His imagination tainted, his hope so far missing
Even the soul of the dead
Has hope of entering into the gates of heaven

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