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Poem

Frigid temperatures drop
Wind chill in low digits
Park benches become co-ops
Under newspaper blankets a man fidgets
Trying to make the best of the hand he was dealt
Man, he’s felt so many lows
Now he’s just looking to sew any clothes
that he can get his hands on
into another layer
Just to help him answer a prayer
Don’t look at him like he has cancer & stare
He’s weathered the storm 
many a time
Trying to keep warm
Begging for change
A nickel
A penny
A dime
He’s begging for change
and he don’t even know it
We show it doesn’t matter
when we look at him 
Creeped out
Stoic faces weave doubt
into his old tattered coat
Twice removed
Shivering
Giving up on life
Defused
How hard he tries
or how hard he cries
Strangers despise him
Is it Darwin’s theory or Marx’
that deprive him?
It’s a pitiful scene 
without words to describe him
Defeat in his eyes
with no Phoenix to arise him
He smiles grim
Not cuz he thinks something’s funny
The trials trim away pounds from his face
He’s got no money
Can’t get a job
Who would ever hire a slob?
He’s got no address
Doesn’t even sleep on a mattress
He needs a shower, new clothes, and groomin’
Before anyone even considers him 
somewhat close to being human
Harry Truman walkin through Manhattan projects
Looking at people as objects
We need to stop this

Who’s got this?

And who’s got next?

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