Roy Smith Poet Free verse

Hobo

He’s usually there – at the intersection
Disheveled and dirty
With blistered lips
Beaten mercilessly by the blazing sun
Day after day
I can’t look him in the eye
But nonetheless he approaches
I raise my hand to deny him a rand
Unmoved it seems – rich bastard
Do you know how it feels?
Without a word he speaks!
His presence is stark and powerful
And he begs of me
A multitude of questions
Which only he
Can answer

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Mark Peterson April 30, 2016 at 9:43 AM This topic is one of persistent concern to me, and you've handled the subject well, conveying the most vivid images and depth of feeling. As human beings we should never assume contentment until the last us is fed and cared for. We could do it, but don't. You might like my poem 'Piteous the Legion' or 'Looking Down.' Dankie vir jou pragtige gedigte en totsiens.

Susan Palli April 30, 2016 at 4:28 AM Powerful write! Could see the scene and feel the emotions of the two characters. Well done.