My day's peculiar and mad

My day's peculiar and mad:
I plead a beggar for some bread,
I help a rich man with a dollar.
 
I thread the needle’s eye with light,
I grant a thief the keys inside,
And use white paint to coat my pallor.
 
The beggar doesn’t give me bread,
The rich man rudely shakes his head,
The needle won’t be looped with light,
 
The thief walks in without the keys,
Alone, a fool weeps on her knees -
About the day, -  bizarre and trite.

July 27, 1918