As usual, there was gyspies begging
That is nothing new
For its as much tradition as need
That begging is what some gypsies do
And so I walked on past them
And gave them just a nod to say hello
And kept my pennies in my pockets
And on my way I did go...
But on the square in Lisbon
There were Africans begging too
In all the lands to which I've been
This was something new.
Is Portugal that poor
Or so twisted is the state against those not its own
That people are reduced to this
For before I have not known
This woman was no junkie
Was no alcoholic waster that before me did stand
Muttering God knows what in Portugese
While holding out her hand.
And I been mean of spirit
I just went on my way
Ignored her, but did not forget her
As I write of her today.
The final indignity of Empire
Is that the only way a former subject can cope
Is to beg from passing strangers
When they come to a land with hope
Of a better life in Europe
When the natives want them to go back
Oh, the Empire lives on if not politically
It seems, when you are black...
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