Blind

Under a metal sky
in this steeltown
the crowds shuffle past
eyes down.
Bleak and forbidding
December once more
wears her rags.
He crouches alone
framed by chance
and the stained light of a doorway
as the night rain weeps bitterly
for the passing day.
The face is finely chiseled by
an unsteady sculptor.
His clothes expose
the too thin core of him
both are threadbare.
A spiteful wind
howls derision
as he shoulders
his burden of years.
In this enlightened age
I feel revulsion
as I draw near.
Arranging my face
I stare blindly
at the badge
reflecting neon light
and courage.
I mumble
"Keep the change"
and walk away
-Ashamed.