She stands,
Arms stretched out.
Eyes looking through me.
Legs trembling.
I place five dollars
In her quaking hand.
She is grateful.
Her face lights up
As she walks inside a bakery
Purchasing a loaf of marble rye.
I've passed many people like her
In my metropolitan meanderings.
I've bought old men coffee.
I've supported musicians in the subway.
I've even let strangers use my MetroCard,
Even though the act itself is illegal.
With every dollar I pay forward,
I know the greatest reward
Comes from my heart
And not my paycheck.
We could all stand to lend a hand
To the ones who desperately need it.
Think about your own sense of emptiness
And fill that void with your loose change,
With your blood and with your clothing.
Imagine how it must feel
Standing on crowded streets
In frigid conditions among people and temperature
With nothing but the clothes on your back.
Imagine,
Or rather you not limit yourself
To simply imagining.
I dare you to spend a night
Alone in Union Square Park
Or Washington Square Park
Or Tompkins Square Park
Or pretty much any high volume area,
And live only off the donations
Of kind strangers.
You will really begin to appreciate
That cup of coffee
Or that slice of pizza,
And I guarantee
That your mind will be expanded.
Aid your fellow man
And support your local soup kitchen,
Clothing drive and house of worship.
While you're at it,
Fight for a five cent deposit on bottles of Snapple and Dasani,
Keeping in mind
That the man in tattered clothing
Or the woman pushing a shopping cart
Could
Be
You.

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