Below is the poem entitled The Stranger Within Us All which was written by poet
cooke. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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As the sun goes down
The feral cat’s prowl
Looking for mice, searching for rats
In the alley, bins full of out of date
And yesterday’s wrapping.
A tribute to Consumerisms detritus
On the ground a smiling face
Colonel Sanders, blocking a stagnant drain.
Slowly freezing as the frost descends,
And up above the stars shine their scorn, upstaged
By the moon, seeking to unveil,
The cities vermin
Residents of the night.
The thief fox, screeches’ his indifference
At the stray dog, licking the remnants of last night’s kebab
And in the shadows behind the skips,
In a cardboard den
A pair of eyes glares across the alley
Seeking forgiveness that is not there,
From within this frail kingdom
A tiny light appears,
A fragment of hope, the start of a happy ending
But no, it is a tab end fading
For the last drag has been taken
And the last can of comfort is now empty
And while we sit down to watch TV
To marvel at Attenborough’s view
To see the blue planet and the leopard seals kill
And "ahh" at polar bears, and gorillas in Brazil
All neatly packaged by nature’s quill.
Oblivious to the view outside
Beyond the living room window
A man will not wake
For when the dawn releases this night’s chill
He will be found, taken away,
Sanitized by his black body bag
Anonymous to this world
For we do not want to know
As we did not in life
A stain on the community
One less beggar to avoid
But look in the mirrors spell
And dare to What if?
You lost your job and your wife ran off
Your child was gone and your house taken away
Your mind now broken,
Fear of humanity is but a step,
The comfort of being alone
Led you down this dark alley.
The rat, and the fox your allies
For they too fear mans footsteps
Think on for I do not preach
Nor do I wish to teach
But remember Attenborough’s planet,
And the wonder of life
I did not see the animals behave this way,
Only mutual survival
Are we less than that we see?
Are we too busy or too proud?
I see no mourners here, only indifference
And when I die I wish for no mourners too.
Jon doe, your maker will mourn for you
And relative’s dead will feel your pain
And perhaps one day your community
Will learn to mourn for a stranger
For we are all strangers, when we look the other way
May you find peace Sir, whoever you may be?