Such Souls As These
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Christmas is over; everyone's partying, ushering in a new year,
except for the unfortunate few who have no home.
For them, there are no church bells of celebration;
to ring in the New Year.
They sleep in dirty blankets atop steam vents to stay warm.
I can't imagine being them; it's hard to fathom
the nightmares that haunt their meager existence.
Invisible in plain sight,
the cold seeps into their bones, crushing their spirits.
Homeless, human dregs, they're the gargoyles of modern cities.
Facing rejection and scorn, they preserve their dignity in alcohol,
trying to numb reality.
Hope is a luxury they can't afford.
Winter is hell for the mentally sick living on the streets.
Some have lost everything, even who they are as a person,
and it's demeaning and cruel; what was their crime?
Humanity harbors such souls as these at its fringes.
Yet, when I look into their eyes, I don't see a hopeless cause,
I see the same dreams and fears that I see in myself.
And it makes me want to cry!
Why are we so indifferent to their hurt and humiliation?
Is our lack of pity because we're immune to their pain,
or is it because, like Cain, we are not our brother's keeper?
Perhaps it's a little of both!
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018
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