Shame

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I find that train rides provide our minds with a cornucopia of glimpses,
each passing us by in brief subliminal spurts.
While glancing out of the window I notice the grandeur of lavish homes,
squalid inner cities, beautifully-manicured lawns and trash-filled vacant lots.

The loud and obscene commotion aboard makes me long for earplugs,
to drown out the obnoxious conversation and myriad vulgarities.
Their stop on this line cannot come soon enough.
Mind the gap please as you exit and bridge your rudeness with a remedy
of kindness. Surely my $25 could have been better spent.

I arrive at my destination, step off of the train and I immediately find myself
surrounded by towering edifices of corporate financial avarice and might.
The nine-to-five'rs, clad in their overpriced coats, suits and shoes, strut past
in confident stride while the poor and destitute reach out desperately for
a helping hand. Have pity for a dime or a dollar please.

The frigid winter night's air draws many homeless to this warm covered
walkway, which links the rich and the poor together, a handshake's 
closeness apart, yet never so far away.
This is capitalism's extreme paradox on display.

How do I morally defend my evening's financial outlay to watch millionaires
play a game in a billionaire's palace of sport when so many of our unfortunate
brothers and sisters cannot afford a warm meal, a comfortable bed or
a safe place to stay?

Suddenly I feel ashamed so I hand a can of soda to a homeless gentleman
nearby. His gracious "thank you sir" makes my evening worthwhile.
I have $12 in my pocket. I consider giving $2 to one, but think twice when I
realize that there are dozens of others too.
I wish not to show favor for one over the others and wish I had much more
to give.

My heart aches for those laying prone on the cold marble floor sleeping next
to a heater on a crowded pedestrian bridge.
Others huddle in corners throughout the train station, swaddled in over-sized
coats and blankets just to stay warm.
Their hands shiver and tremble with desperation.

How about a sobering dose of reality to awaken our inebriated sense of entitlement?
We should all spend one day in their shoes.

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