Not once in my life have I heard someone say
“Could you spare some change?”; no, they expect we will pay.
They sit with their signs, black words in black scrawl,
and hope as we each walk on by, one and all.
But are they wrong to assume that we’d help without prompt,
that we’d give just to give though in bills we are swamped,
that we’d help out our brothers with stories unknown,
that we’d donate our funds just until theirs have grown?
They should not have to ask; we should know what to do;
if the roles were reversed, the rich men would hope, too,
that we’re just born to love, and we will every day,
and some change could create an “us” from that “they.”