Shallow Footsteps
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An inconsiderate sun sinks slowly
while sleep tries to ignore dreams of freezing.
Steam from a sewer grate blankets him lowly
as he lays on it, coughing and wheezing.
Through his head, drums the beat of many feet
and it's almost impossible to sleep.
For that irritating sound is the street
pulsating; shallow footsteps echo deep.
Ignored and forgotten, he awaits day
as the rats of hunger gnaw at his guts.
And little by little, he wilts away
while stinging remarks add salt to his cuts.
Morning shall find his bedroll soaked in pee,
for had he gotten up, he could have died.
The night air was forty below, you see,
so he held it in, or at least, he tried.
Survival includes a warm place to go,
but folks tend to treat him like a splinter.
And their insensitivity is so
outrageous he dodges death each winter.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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