The Beggar
I have begged these last decades; many have I seen.
Life is fun on the whole; once you know you’re a beggar.
Unless you decide you’re just like everyone.
Everyone? Yes, there’s a beggar in us all.
But I have the distinction of being called one.
As I explain this, my words will get more organized;
They’ll be more decided, they’ll teach and delight.
You’re a security guard for this building, you get a salary.
But that doesn’t mean much; life’s interesting if you can go beyond.
What’s in a salary? What’s in what you routinely get? 
Routines breed boredom; they breed contempt.
Your eyes go to the other; your mind counts his pay.
‘The guard in that building seems jolly and gay.’
It’s then begins your begging; You begin to complain
‘That man has security, and I merely provide one.’
Don’t worry brother; you’re not asking for more,
Life is like that, and you must admit that it is.
The teacher wants more, the doctor wants more,
Lawyers ask for fees as never before.
Contractors are quite clear on this one norm:
You cannot go giving them just what’s gone on.
Leaders want commissions, politicians want votes.
They beg with great merit, wearing smart pants and coats.
What’s more, though all of them beg for this or for that,
None is known as a beggar; each distinguished; round or flat. 
I have begged these last decades, and many have I seen.
Life is fun on the whole; when you see what I mean.