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Brick City's Homeless

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Below is the poem entitled Brick City's Homeless which was written by poet JustcallMe Britt. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Brick City's Homeless

I am a high school graduate and a former college student
I have no children
No drug or alcohol addiction
nor do I have a home
I am one of Brick City's homeless
Many of the faces I've seen downtown are the same faces I see at the soup kitchen or the shelter
The same quirky, ragged, foul-smelling, quiet homeless people
But these aren't the only homeless people
Many of the faces I've seen at the soup kitchen or at the shelter,
I've also seen downtown
The same outgoing, inconspicuous and "average" yet homeless people
I used to assume I'd pass up to 10 of the same homeless people downtown
Now that I'm one of them
and pretty much every homeless person knows every homeless person
You'd probably feel blessed and highly favored when I tell you that the majority of adult pedestrian traffic downtown are homeless United State citizens
The majority are homeless
We're at the library, McDonald's, Penn Station, 18 Rector, 50 South Clinton, all Essex County Parks, 990, Red Doors, St. Johns 
or the sidewalk with our book bags, purses, suitcases and our will, however weak or strong, to live for right now
We get in where we fit in
The most thrilling part of my day is knowing what time the next soup kitchen serves and when I'm unconscious and dreaming

Most are not bums
Most are caught in a cyclical cycle of destitution because they have a record and can't qualify for anything other than a 9-5
Or don't have a job because there are no jobs and don't have anyone to take care of them without taking advantage of their situation, be it sexually or by an unfair criminal or immoral request
Most of us just can WAIT until!
. . . and there's no one here to help me right now
I understand though:
It's likewise
This homeless lifestyle encourages me to keep dreaming, faintly hope and never expect anything
My high hopes and expectations left me ____ out in the streets of Newark




It's 4 o'clock
. . . On to the next soup kitchen

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  1. Date: 2/23/2013 7:48:00 AM
    CI, this is a very sad and inspiring poem, very well done...David

  1. Date: 2/3/2013 2:36:00 PM
    You gave the stigma of homelessness an extra human touch in this poem of yours....amazing how there are even post-graduate students now who are technically homeless, but make it to class, trying, trying, still trying. You are young, I hope this experience helps to part more veils. Keep hoping for better days, I am sure better days will come. Keep hope alive, drop the great expectations, appreciate every moment, even the supposedly crappy moments.

    Britt Avatar JustcallMe Britt
    Date: 2/3/2013 6:39:00 PM Block poet from commenting on your poetry


    <3
  1. Date: 2/2/2013 3:10:00 PM
    hi C.I,link me in soup mail,our journey builds our faith

  1. Date: 2/2/2013 5:33:00 AM
    Beautifully said poet

  1. Date: 2/1/2013 6:31:00 PM
    Although I have not been in your shoes I have had to sleep in my car before. You are not insignificant. If I offend it is not my intent, I believe God knows our struggles and gives us strength to endure if we but ask. I pray your situation turns around soon. We can be used where ever we are. God bless very powerful writing

    Britt Avatar JustcallMe Britt
    Date: 2/1/2013 6:38:00 PM Block poet from commenting on your poetry


    Thank you, Donna. No offense taken. Even through this struggle I can't deny that God has been blessing me <3