Homeless

Any night endless, in countless shop doorways.
    Down on their uppers, and satanic. strange places.
    Spluttering, sneezing, coughing and wheezing,
    In old cardboard boxes, rest weather worn faces
    Catnapping for hours, gleans little cold comfort.
    It's quicker with liquor, in brown paper bags.
    A pawnshop's shopwindow, bears witness to sorrow,
    Where all is exchanged, for the price of some fags.
    Wearing second hand garments, from salvation counters,
    No hope without dope, they suffer in silence.
    A world where surviving, regrets to forget.
    Downtrodden, despised, more often with violence.
    The homeless seek shelter, a bed for the night.
    Too few, for too many, for too many, too late.
    Indifferent to hardship, they just melt away,
    Swallowed up by the night-times, irreversible fate.

    5/ 23/ 2017.

abusedepressionsorrowrhyme

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