Do we often walk on by?

Question

Walk On By

I saw a man who wore no shoes

his feet were sore and bleeding.

“Spare a dollar for a chap who’s…”

but I walked on by unheeding.

A few paces on I turned around,

the man was old Tom Daniels.

But he was not, nowhere around

I forgot he was with the angels.

My feet snug by a warming fire

at home with my family feeding.

An angel bled for lack of attire

and I had walked by unheeding.

Answer 1

Worthy sentiment and clever idea, but the inconsistent meter made me stumble a bit. Essentially I would agree with what AHM wrote, but would you forgive my temerity in making a few suggestions?

I saw a man who wore no shoes,

his feet were sore and bleeding.

"Can you spare some change for one who's..?",

but I walked by unheeding.

Some paces on I turned around,

the man had been Tom Daniels.

But he was nowhere to be found

for he was with the Angels.

My feet snug by a roaring fire,

home comforts, nothing needing.

An Angel lacking in attire

and I walked by unheeding.

8/7/8/7 for all 3 verses makes it read a little smoother I think. Feel free to completely ignore of course.

Answer 2

The ONLY problem

I had while

reading this verse

was knowing full well,

you, kind sir,

would not keep

on walking.

ma

Answer 3

Yes we do.  Its easier to walk on by than to admit we see it.  Its easier to do nothing because we see the problem as enormous and unending.  We choose to make them faceless.  We chose to make them nameless.  We decide to ignore what we fear, that it could be us instead.  

Answer 4

Yes quite brilliant Actually. Very good keep them coming.  

Answer 5

How endearing, this to read

With these thoughts

My heart did bleed.

A Tear or two,

crept down my cheek

Missed so often are the meek.

If only we could spare a thought,

For all out there,

who have nought.

Now's a time to reflect,

It could be you,

Or I that's next.

Answer 6

like it -remids me of the last visit to vancover

Answer 7

Sometimes I've walked by, sometimes others have walked by me.  Our "chap" had no shoes...asking for money.  I've offered food to those holding signs wanting money for food, they put it into a backpack and held up the sign.  Money is often used for drugs/alcohol.  When I worked in San Francisco, many "bag & shopping cart people" had tons of money, they just didn't have a need for it or didn't know how to manage it so they sock it away or put it into the banks.  Some of the street people were the wealthiest.  Years ago my conviction....I should have given my coat.  I actually planned on giving one woman a particular coat I prized...but "that woman" I never saw again.  Perhaps we should tell our "tom Daniels"....here are my shoes.

Answer 8

Nicely written poem about our selective blindness.

Answer 9

This is a beautifully constructed little poem that gives all consciences the gentle expanding they need from time to time.  We become so comfortable that we seemingly lose the capacity to appreciate the plight of others.  Indeed, the time to help, the time to care, is now, not after the fact when it can do no good.  Otherwise, all of our messages of love and compassion lie unopened in a sort of vast Dead Letters Office, never to be delivered and eventually to be consumed in the fires of eternity. This poem, which uses one moment in time as an emblem for defining our sensibilities, our selves, gives us pause.  If only we could see our fellows as angels in life, before they passed beyond the pale, we might not similarly sit by our fires, with our families, and though having it all, know ourselves to be cold and quite alone in the world.  Aye, the price we pay for our lack of humanity and wisdom is to acquire them, too late, but with the added surcharge of ruefulness, which makes their cost impossible to bear.  You are a wise man, and this is your poem, your message.  Excellent.

Answer 10

I know I do. I'm not a very compassionate person in real life. I'm not saying it's right, I'm just saying. When I was a young kid, one summer, I lived in Vegas and had to take public transportation buses to summer school and back. After my classes I would walk several blocks to the bus station being asked for change every block. Once at the station, THERE everybody was in need of something. You had to ignore them all, else help them all. Where does it end. I mean I'll help change a flat tire or something. I'm all for acts of random kindness, but I'm not compelled to try to do every good deed.

Good write Mr. Harrison you got me thinking early this morning. Now who's Tom Daniels?

Answer 11

Thanks for the poem.  It is something to remember.