Notes About The Poem

Homeless

Oh, please, drop something in my cup, a bill or batch of change,
to see me smile when I look up...my fear with hope exchange.
A homeless man surely I am, my fate did bad by me;
I am not here to cheat or scam, I have no family.
On me, this tattered coat, my home, will hug me to the end; 
cast out by fate and all alone...this cup, my only friend.

Oh, please, just one coin in my cup, or maybe two or more,
in trembling hands that I hold up, my begging eyes implore.
You'll never know the intense pain of having hunger gnaw
or have to sleep out in the rain or barnyard on the straw.
To be looked at with such disgust by some who pass me by,
and know there's no one I can trust beneath this lonely sky.

Oh, please, drop something in my cup; assure my heart will beat;
to see my eyes, with hope, tear up...perhaps today I eat.
In past, my life was full of dreams, the path I could not find;
no one to guide me so it seems...to future, I was blind.
And so I live my days and deal with each one as it comes,
to walk the streets, to find a meal...until my life succumbs.


October 24, 2016

Premiere Contest: Panic At The Food Bank
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann

Form: Iambic Heptameter - 14 syllables, 7 feet per line
plus internal rhyme

for himlifesadsorrowverse

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