Walking the many city streets and allies
day in, day out he never complains.
The streets are his home now and he is
okay with that, people who see him just
walk on by never uttering a 'good morning'
or even a 'hi' they see him as invisible.
His bed is a big dirty card board box that
is behind a old broken down dumpster.
News papers are used for his blankets
each night he lays down to sleep he prays
and thanks God for a good day.
The clothes he wears are smelly, dirty, old
and worn but he never ever complains.
He can't buy anything now because he lost
his job of 50 years he holds a small tin cup.
The cup some times has a dollar or two but
usually it is empty like he is inside.
This man once was hard working, had a
wife, kids nice house and a warm bed to
lay down on at night time, his clothes were
always clean, but when the factory closed
he lost his wife, kids and the house he had.
He never complains because he knows
When he walks those streets, allies that
someday, someone will see him and know
that it could be them walking the streets and
alley's and people pass them by.