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Poem

The architects of cardboard town, will never shoulder blame.
From brick and stone built luxury, they sit immune to shame.
Whilst on forgotten streets the homeless, dwell in paper waste
Constructing prefab mobile homes, before each cold night breaks.

In handmedowns  and odd paired shoes, they shuffle in our streets,
invisible, anonymous, a Legion of deadbeats.
Tramps and Bums, the great unwashed, the epithets we use,
Casting blasé aspersions, we carelessly abuse.

We close our eyes and turn our heads, reciting ‘it’s God’s will,
we don’t know them, they don’t know us,’ thus avoiding bitter pill.
Just Stop, reflect, one minute, as you avoid their eyes,
Remember, but for God’s good grace, that there goes you or I.

A thousand different stories lie, beneath those cardboard roofs,
A million different reasons why,  but all state one sad truth.
The corpulence of greedy men, with callous aforethought,
has generated homelessness, our indifference cheaply bought.

A kindly word, a helping hand, each Christian act you make,
to a broken, lost and lonely soul  could all the difference make.
Instead of standing idly by, and sighing at the sights
Why not take to task MPs, and make them put this right.

These victims of our system, have slipped between the cracks,
The engine of good government, must get back on the tracks.
Put this right, remove this blight, that puts us all to shame.
Accept the fact, that all of us, share equally the blame.

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