Homeless
Homeless
He shuffles down the sidewalk, pushing his world before him
Plastic bags of treasures, societies discarded remnants
With him walks a dog of suspect lineage,
Tied to his grocery cart with a frayed piece of rope
Passers by give wide birth, diverting eyes to avoid his being
As if not looking will make him not be there
With eyes downcast, he pretends he does not notice
Hiding his hurt inside his rumpled clothes
He knows that he has all but been forgotten
Except by those that provide the gift of food
His life reduced to the humility of handouts
Hoarded to be shared with his faithful friend
At night they disappear into the shadows
Retreating to the camps that they call home
Surrounded by those that harbor like afflictions
Thankful to survive another day
He thinks about the days before the bottle
And the drugs that lifted him above the stress
He pats his dog as she lays down beside him
Without judgment, she is willing to accept
Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
He will continue on the treadmill of despair
Hope is just a word without a meaning
As he tries to make it through another day
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