On a Silvery Platter

A tramp offered me his coins

In all his foetid rags

An old blind lady

Living in squalor

Emptied her purse for me

Obviously, in shock, I refused

It wasn’t the money I needed

For they gave me so much more

They gave me my life

They gave me my soul

Upon a silvery platter

Long lost lessons in love

For decades I could not find

In all the grand and gilded halls

Or by the hearths of plenty

But in the cold, gloom and misery

Where, for the very fist time

I felt my heart and all mankind’s.

Cheung-Ling Wong

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