Pain of the Street

The concrete jungle is my home

This cardboard box, my shelter from the storm.

I never I thought my life would be like this

Never thought I'd deviate so far from the norm.


You avoid my gaze, you look through me

You pretend I don't exist.

My being homeless makes you uncomfortable

You swear, you would never live like this.


Food and shelter, you take them for granted

Once upon a time, so did I.

I used to have a job and a home and a family

I lost them all, once I started getting high.


My drug of choice was cocaine

A wicked taskmaster is she.

A Twisted domineering mistress

I am but a shell of the man, I used to be.


The cold hard sidewalk is unforgiving

The streets are filled with crime.

I beg like a dog, for a scrap of food

Because I don't have a dog gone dime.


I try not to look in mirrors

I don't like the image I see

I avoid my reflection in windows 

There's a pathetic, wretched old man, staring back at me.


I pray that in Gods Kingdom

There's a new home waiting for me.

One where there is no hunger

No pain, and no poverty.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace