Philosophical

A beggar sits on a cold stone 
Out of pocket, he has no home 
This beggar, begs for coin or food 
But passers by, just brand him crude 
His day consists of endless wonder 
And in this time he observes and ponders 
With his omnipresent view on day to day life 
He only observes a hectic strife 
And even though the beggar is poor 
And rests his head on the cold street floor 
The beggar is not clouded by material desires 
For pointless aesthetics he does not require 
The beggar will often sit upon his stone, 
And chuckle because, though he has not home 
And on his rock he sits alone 
His simple life helps him atone.