Carl Fraser Poet Rhyme

The Real Me

Why won't they stop and talk me
I used to be of their kind  and style
Why won't they reach out and touch me
If only to share a smile.

I used to be in their circus
I cruised the morning madness each day
Trying desperately  to keep up with the Joneses
 Until the bank  swept it all away .

Am I a different man inside now  
That I'm no longer in their game
And those I thought my closest friends
They no longer treat me the same.

I've never begged for food before
It brings such a sense of shame
But now it's a matter of survival
Not how it affects my name.

I see myself now in the passers-by 
I see how I used to be
 Perhaps God lead me to this point   
To find the real me.

For the Homeless

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Poet Destroyer A November 5, 2015 at 9:13 PM it's always a pleasure to read twice. LINDA

Poet Destroyer A October 25, 2015 at 11:18 PM Amazing write. Carl. it is different to be on the other side. Sometimes I wonder if this is where I am at. Love LINDA

Elis Artis October 25, 2015 at 10:15 AM Such a great topic to write about! People often completely forget about the homeless, so it was really nice of you to remember them with this beautifully penned piece! God bless you

October 22, 2015 at 10:34 PM The REAL you is a loving, kind hearted man!