The Urchin and the Man: A Dialouge

Thinks the Urchin:
Begone ye foul-hearted commerce pigeon
Ye token-carrying street scavenger
Begone from my sight
Lest my anger find you
And tear your office-hardened wings off

Thinks the Businessman:
Away, O vile unworthy alley rat
Thou art the disease of this city
The coins in my purse shall remain there
For my comfort outweighs your need
Away, my evening walk demands peace

Says the Urchin:
Good evening sir

Says the man:
Hello