Emile Pinet Poet Quatrain

Torn Dungarees

In alleys devoid of light;
the beggars sleep on the street.
And fear arrives late at night;
to feed upon their defeat.

Delusions exchanged for lies,
they panhandle in the park.
And tears trickle from sad eyes;
watching hunger carve its mark.

Drugs ease their physical pain,
but their sanity's in doubt.
For their monsters can't be slain;
on the fringes of burnout.

Scrounging in torn dungarees,
they confront brutality.
And fragmented memories,
are lost to reality.

As hypocrisy walks by,
the beggars barely survive.
And if broken wings can't fly,
can they ever feel alive?

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Line Gauthier March 16, 2018 at 4:48 PM Great poem about harsh reality of struggling teens. Leaves us wondering about type of future they have in store. Emile Pinet March 17, 2018 at 9:23 AM Thanks so much Line, I truly appreciate your comments and support my friend, Emile.

Lindsay Laurie January 9, 2016 at 12:52 AM You see what so many don't Emile and you express this truth so well - Lindsay Emile Pinet January 9, 2016 at 9:34 AM Thanks Lindsay, that is a compliment I will share with you, you are a gifted poet, my friend. Emile.

White Sage January 5, 2016 at 5:09 PM excellent write Emile... Emile Pinet January 6, 2016 at 8:27 AM Thanks White Sage, I appreciate your comments. Emile.

Howard Tunick January 4, 2016 at 10:08 PM Wonderful poem Emile. Beautifully constructed and powerful story. Emile Pinet January 5, 2016 at 10:18 AM Thanks Howard, I truly appreciate it. Emile.

Lin Lane January 4, 2016 at 2:22 PM Those of us who have never been on the streets too often take for granted what we have. Nicely written, Emile. Emile Pinet January 4, 2016 at 2:37 PM Thanks Lin, I appreciate both your visits and your comments. Emile.

Skat A January 4, 2016 at 11:33 AM such a deep write. SKAT Emile Pinet January 4, 2016 at 2:08 PM Thanks SKAT, I appreciate both your visits and your comments. Emile.