Homeless & Hungry?

I hate to waste food because I know that there are starving people all over the world. In New York, there are homeless people on just about every corner and definitely in every subway. As such, I always get any decent portion of leftovers wrapped up to give to a person I'm sure to come across in my travels. However on this particular day, I made this plate of gourmet sandwiches and cookies leftover from a work event for my mother. She works the night shift at a nursing home and I thought it would be nice for her & her coworkers to have a decent snack while they shoot the breeze at 3:30 am. As expected, a homeless man came on the train asking for change. I smelled him before he even approached me- torn and soiled pants, sharp long uneven nails, filthy hands. I offered him the food with a sincere smile ---not screwing up my face in disgust or covering my nose like the the people seated near me. He accepted. I was pleased. He inspected the contents once, twice, a third time and then tossed it out on the platform at the next stop. I was shocked & upset to say the least. Not only because of his ungrateful act but because what was prepared with love for my hardworking mother ended up on the platform floor.  My anger toward him was brief, gone by the time he got off the train. I chalked it up to the fact that maybe he just wasn't that hungry :-) To follow is a poem written about a time when I wasn't so giving. Enjoy!


Memory

Walking by in haste
Trying to ignore her sullen face,
too small dress of ivory tattered lace
and outstretched palm.

I denied her
Was I wrong?
As I continued on
memory of her will not be gone.
I recall her sign's plea:
"I am a disgrace
But still apart of the human race-
Please! Please help me!"

That could be me-
Would they be amiss not care?
I turn around- rush back in despair
She's no longer there
But memory of her will not let me be.