by Arfina (age 13)
The 2-dolar note clutched tight in her hand,
She walked hastily towards the ice-cream van;
She was very quickly approaching it,
When she saw a beggar along the street.
She couldn't understand why nobody donated to him,
She didn't understand why he sat there so limp;
She wouldn't accept others calling him a phoney,
And she needed no one to tell her he was lonely.
She knew it to be something hesitating,
But it was managed while some were staring;
Instead of eating a cool ice-lolly,
She gave with much joy the beggar the money.
I know what it feels like to sit down there,
I know what it feels like when at you people stare;
I can't believe they are so selfish indeed,
To give just 1 dollar for his measly needs.
Let them ridicule me,
But they can't fool me;
Call me naive cos I'm just a 4-year-old,
But I've got more heart than you all are bold.
If I pass my chance on a real beggar,
For me to sleep it would be harder;
Than to donate to a fraud or a phoney or both,
Well he too can make do with a loaf.
It doesn't matter if I don't get what I want,
And you won't believe what wish I would grant;
If I were a fairy godmother or something like that,
I'll let every poor man have a magic hat.
So he can get anything he likes,
From big cars to the books of Christopher Pike;
But when he turns rich and vain,
The use of the hat will I restrain.
I know I'd made somebody's day,
I felt so light and happy all the way;
And even if the beggar's phoney,
All that matters is sincerity.
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