Long Homeless person Poems
Long Homeless person Poems. Below are the most popular long Homeless person by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Homeless person poems by poem length and keyword.
I bet your beds comfy,
I imagine it smells of flowers and vanilla,
Or just the smell of clean,
And you have pillows,
Big soft voluptuous pillows,
And sheets,
Clean sheets.
I could sleep forever in a bed like that,
Literally forever,
And I bet you don’t even think about it,
Because it’s just a bed to you,
And it is,
Id probably cry if I could climb into like that everyday,
I’d cry if I could climb in for one day,
An hour or two,
The comfort would be amazing but -,
probably too comfortable for someone like me,
I’m used to the cardboard thats under me,
And Im quite attached to the bag that I sleep in,
Even the smell settles me,
And trust me when I tell you -
It’s not flowers or vanilla !
The noises of the night are my lullabies,
And the crisp cut of the cold keeps me alert,
Keeps me safe,
You probably wouldn’t understand,
But I’m glad of that,
A bed would be nice,
The comfort would be nicer,
But it’s the home that it’s in that makes it special,
A comfy bed - that’s safe, in a house,
A home,
Secure,
Free from the fear of a random threat,
That’s why you can sleep so well in your comfy bed,
Because your safe,
Because your free to sleep,
Where as my sleep can cost me dearly,
If I fall asleep I can lose the little that I have,
Even the shoes off my feet,
If I fall asleep I could be woken with a kick or a punch,
If I fall asleep,
I might not wake up at all,
So your bed is comfy and would be nice,
But it’s the fact you can sleep freely which is special,
So treasure your bed,
Enjoy your sleep,
And be thankful for your freedom.
I’m not jealous ,
I wouldn’t wish my situation on anyone,
I don’t even wish it on myself but I accept it,
If I fought it I wouldn’t be here now.
All I ask is that -
Next time you see a homeless person,
Remember a little kindness goes along way.
Life’s a funny bugger -
There was a time when I had a comfy bed,
In a nice loving house,
There was a time when I would look at the homeless I passed in the street,
Never once imagining that the cardboard mattress next to them was reserved for me
So sleep well good people,
Treasure what yo have because time is fleeting,
Good fortune is a gift,
When you climb into your bed tonight,
Stop for a second to appreciate it,
Just ..... appreciate it for me,
Because I can’t.
Not right now anyway,
But hey -
It is what it is.
My Parents were too busy getting drunk to care for me as a child
Bullied at school, mocked for not being sane
Bipolar mixed with depression and anxiety I couldn't stop the pain
But I will find a way to end this story with a smile
All I've ever had is a fully loaded pen with a chamber of rhymes
Inspired by Nas, Rakim, Eminem, Ice Cube, Big Pun and the gods of Hip-Hop
At the age of 10 I was watching Boyz n the hood and dangerous minds
I was just a kid lost
Who at times showcased his dumb ways
But most the time I was trying to expand my knowledge from a young age
Inspired by Mike Tyson, Rappers, Malcolm X and Martin Luther
My past was tormenting me, but I was trying to start the future
I never had a thing
Demons tried to grab my wings
Cut them off so I couldn't fly
Killed off all my emotions so I wouldn't die
I became numb to it all
But I found the strength to stand up to it and not run from it all
Forgive me but i'm not impressed by your closet of nice shoes
I'm impressed by the guy who lost a leg but continues to try and move
I don't respect your diamond jewelry, I respect the guy with a broken neck trying to keep his head up
I respect the homeless person trying to find work even though they don't know how a bed looks
I admire the person Going to church trying to get clean wings
I despise the guy who Makes a little donation, but hides the fact the rest of his money went in a strippers G-string
Sorry but it just doesn't seem right
Yes I go to strip clubs, but I don't then go to church preaching about a clean life
I found beauty in my nightmares and turned it into my dream life
Me, Myself and I, the ultimate team's arrived
I thought I needed more, turns out I was wrong with that mindset
Thankful I started to realize my own worth while I have time left
Over 3 thousand poems, but it feels like I Haven't rhymed yet
My pen got me out of mazes I thought I'd always be lost in
"He made mistakes, but he tried to correct them, no matter how much it cost him"
That line is how I'd like to be remembered when my time comes
I exercise my thoughts on paper as my mind runs
Been ridiculed, bullied, and mocked but I found a way to survive
Better times are ahead, if you continue your journey and stop saying this can't be life
The Posings of a Homeless Heart
Once I Posed in the mirror for hours trying to find that perfect outfit and perfect fitting shirt, was that wrong since I was getting ready to pass out food at a shelter where many had been living on the street and where still covered in dirt.
I witnessed many posings while their some people that weren't dirty at all,
and people that didn't want to appear homeless or appear absolutely scared shitless of their own personal fall,
but pose as competent and pose a threat to anyone who challenges their knowledge or wellbeing or inner relentless beast who's fight is to still one day have it all.
What exactly is the right way to act or right way to pose these days after all someone has ever known or loved has been without violence or violently and without notice stripped away,
Indeed I believe their is a pose for such a person who shows no signs of homelessness yet their heart clearly shows signs of decay,
and that that heart holds a pose of Love and strength but is distracted by the ever changing environment and personalities that leave the heart and thought process in this massive disarray.
Is it a man, woman or child that we have lost in our lives that has made the heart never to be mistaken for homeless but homesick beat weak,
and is it in realizing that everything we seek out in life like money and even people are fleeding and that this could inadvertently transform us unprepared immediately into the meek.
I must say that the many posings of a homeless person must and may seem to vary from country to country, city to city and town to town,
But the many posings of a homeless heart is unwaivering in its not lust or Love for light but a rage against the dying of,
and goes to show that the luster, strength and duality of the heart while homeless or not is a very hard thing to bring down
and this sort of strength only comes from God above.
W... Truth
Walking the coastline pathways
Cup of coffee in the local Café
Sitting, observing people as they passed
Checking on dress sense today
Shoes, where did they purchase them?
Spotted a homeless person
Shabbily dressed and looking unkempt
He appeared increasingly in the landscape
Popping up in unusual places, staring at others faces
Realised picnic area was his hideout
Sleeping bag, plastic bags, all neatly stacked
He lay asleep on the grass
Voices woke him from his slumber
Gave a glance, no words spoken
He walked the village streets
Locals giving him a wide berth
Clothing improving, including shoes on his feet
The gossip tree said, elderly people made him welcome
Winter set in, he lived in the cold of the picnic areas
Spoke of his life when sitting in our comfortable home
The conversation always finished with, such a shame
One cold winters evening, near Village shop
Aware of homeless person sitting nearby
Huddled, sheltering from the cold wind on a street corner
Decided to approach him, enough of wondering
Checked on what money I could offer him
When approaching, he stood as if frightened
Standing close enough to touch each other
The weariness on his face, in plain sight
Eyes met in silence, trying to understand what it was I wanted
Asked quite bluntly what and why
No answers forthcoming just a shake of his head
His eyes showed such torment, emotions surfacing
Never or ever again, such pain behind a gaze
Reached to place money in a tattered trouser pocket
A shake of his hand, done willingly
His grip was quite strong, as we exchanged this greeting
For an instant, a wry smile crossed his face
Realised that he was a young man
His face showed his daily survival
He spoke a thank you as goodbye was spoken
Walked away with his eyes following
The memories of meeting this homeless soul
Went on and on and even visited my dreams
Not seen since this meeting
Moved on, looking for somewhere else safe to stay
Positive thoughts of what he was doing
My imagination, what was life dealing him
Walking the local area coastline,
Cup of coffee in the local Café
Sitting, observing people passing
Checking on dress sense today,
Shoes, where did they purchase them?
Spotted a homeless person
Shabbily dressed and looking unkempt
He appeared increasingly in the landscape
Popping up in unusual places, staring at others faces.
I realised the picnic area was his hideout
Sleeping bags, plastic bags neatly stacked
He lay asleep on the grass.
Voices woke him from his slumber
Gave a glance, no words spoken.
He walked the village streets, locals avoiding him,
Winter set in, he lived in the cold of the picnic areas,
Spoke of his life when sitting in a comfortable home
The conversation always finished with such a shame.
One cold winters evening near Village shop
Aware of a homeless person sitting near
Huddled, sheltering from the cold wind on a street corner.
Decided to approach him, enough of wondering
Checked on what money I could share.
When approaching he stood as if frightened,
Standing close enough to touch each other
Weariness on his face, easily seen.
Eyes met in silence trying to understand what it was I wanted,
Asked quite bluntly, what and why,
No answers forthcoming just a shake of his head
His eyes showed such torment, emotions coming to the surface,
Never or ever again, seen such pain behind a gaze.
Reached to place money in a tattered trouser pocket
We shook hands, his hand having problems releasing from mine
His grip was quite strong as we exchanged this greeting
For an instant, a wry smile crossed his face.
Realised that he was a young person
His face showed his daily survival
He spoke a thank you, as goodbye was spoken,
Walked away with his eyes following.
The memories of meeting with this homeless soul
Went on and on and even visited dreams.
Not seen since this meeting
Moved on, looking for somewhere else safe to stay.
Positive thoughts of what he was doing
Imagining, what life was dealing him?
Would You Recognize Jesus Like Johnny Cash maybe you recognize Him like Woody Guthrie A junkie maybe you didn’t recognize Him reading Generation of Swine: Tales of Shame and Degradation in the '80's and walked into the bus station or on the bus The old man crying out to God to take me now but a thought stuck in my head would you recognize Jesus and learning He came to save sinners and hung out with them on earth You don’t know my story but now I know His and maybe you didn’t recognize him at all like this preacher tried to teach Pastor Jeremiah Steepek transformed himself into a homeless person
Once upon a time, there was a man named Bubba.
Bubba was a good man, always reaching out to
help someone. His life was a life of lessons.
One afternoon Bubba came upon a sparrow named
BIRDY in a parking lot. All of Birdy's family had
forsaken him, leaving him to fend for himself.
Fortunately, Bubba saw him before someone would
have inadvertently run over him in the parking lot.
Bubba picked him up, having no clue what to do with
him. He then lifted and released him to the sky, and
Birdy flapped his little wings and flew away. Bubba
simply gave him a lift which proved to be all that
Birdy really needed.
One day while tending his flowers, Bubba saw
a yard bug named BUGGY caught in the web of a
Black Widow spider. As the Black Widow looked on
about 5 feet away, Bubba freed the bug from the
spider's web. Bubba has often wondered if he should
have left the bug alone and allowed nature to take its course.
One cold and misty morning, Bubba saw a barefooted
homeless man crossing the street in front of him.
When the light changed, Bubba quickly drove ahead
and called out to the barefooted man named BUDDY.
Bubba asked Buddy about the whereabouts of his shoes,
and Buddy indicated that someone stole his shoes.
Bubba then pulled off his shoes and gave them to
Buddy. Buddy was very grateful for the shoes.
One day, as Bubba was looking at his bathroom
floor, he saw an ant named BUCKY. Bucky was
heading West and decided to go North. For no
apparent reason, Bubba tried to redirect him,
but Bucky refused to alter his course. As a
result, Bucky ended up in the web of a spider
and lost his life.
Bubba teaches us how to love all of God's people
as well as God's creatures. To give a 'lift' to one
such as Birdy; To lead others like Buggy out of
'harm's way'; To help a homeless person like
like Buddy; Or try to warn others like Bucky
even if they don't listen. The world could use
a lot more people like Bubba.
101522PS
For all of this apparent tragedy in her life, and truly it all only set the stage for my
mother’s soul growth in this experience, what I remember most about my mom is her courage, her compassion and her ever-present service through her Words of Encouragement project that she carried on for the last nearly forty years that she was on this earth. She would collect inspirational writings, sometimes writing her own, and send them to her list of people “in bereavement”. She would volunteer at some local church that would allow her to print copies for mailings. People inspired by her faith would donate envelopes and postage so she could continue mailing Words of Encouragement to people she learned about who were dealing with some kind of difficulty or loss in their life. After she died, we found she had maintained a carefully hand-written log of all the people she sent mailings to over the years. This was her form of “selfless service” and I’m certain that it was her service to others that kept her in the world when it would have been so easy for her to just give up finally.
I learned from my mother that we can pull ourselves out of our depression and self-absorption by turning our gaze outward and giving service in one way or another, how ever it is we can find a way to serve our brother. Even though it appears we have no material worth and nothing at all to give, on some level my mom understood the value and importance of giving encouragement to one another. She faced enormous loss, criticism and complete lack of support throughout her life but, time and time again, she found the courage to rise above, call to Holy Spirit for help, and carry on ... giving whatever she could give, whether it was a place to sleep on her couch for a homeless person, finding a market for handmade crafts created by women in prison, or even if all she could give was a Word of Encouragement.
Mom was born on February 11, 1928 and passed away on April 4, 2002.
I am a high school graduate and a former college student
I have no children
No drug or alcohol addiction
nor do I have a home
I am one of Brick City's homeless
Many of the faces I've seen downtown are the same faces I see at the soup kitchen or the shelter
The same quirky, ragged, foul-smelling, quiet homeless people
But these aren't the only homeless people
Many of the faces I've seen at the soup kitchen or at the shelter,
I've also seen downtown
The same outgoing, inconspicuous and "average" yet homeless people
I used to assume I'd pass up to 10 of the same homeless people downtown
Now that I'm one of them
and pretty much every homeless person knows every homeless person
You'd probably feel blessed and highly favored when I tell you that the majority of adult pedestrian traffic downtown are homeless United State citizens
The majority are homeless
We're at the library, McDonald's, Penn Station, 18 Rector, 50 South Clinton, all Essex County Parks, 990, Red Doors, St. Johns
or the sidewalk with our book bags, purses, suitcases and our will, however weak or strong, to live for right now
We get in where we fit in
The most thrilling part of my day is knowing what time the next soup kitchen serves and when I'm unconscious and dreaming
Most are not bums
Most are caught in a cyclical cycle of destitution because they have a record and can't qualify for anything other than a 9-5
Or don't have a job because there are no jobs and don't have anyone to take care of them without taking advantage of their situation, be it sexually or by an unfair criminal or immoral request
Most of us just can WAIT until!
. . . and there's no one here to help me right now
I understand though:
It's likewise
This homeless lifestyle encourages me to keep dreaming, faintly hope and never expect anything
My high hopes and expectations left me ____ out in the streets of Newark
It's 4 o'clock
. . . On to the next soup kitchen
The month of February, ever since I can recall, is
known by most to celebrate Black History and all,
but every single year I always ponder, not to front,
just why our peoples' histories possess the shortest
month.
See if I ruled a perfect world I also shall declare, that
BHM, Black History Month extends to half the year,
with 1 month on and 1 month off I think that would be
fair, I'd also lock my hair inside a perfect world I
swear.
Now since I'd be the ruler making up new laws and
such, commit a crime against a child? I'd sew their
eyeballs shut,
and throw them in a tranny prison, worth the while or
what, with dudes I pray who'd make a birth canal
from out their butt.
I'd rule the world with iron fist my justice swift and
fair, when someone doesn't care someone will lift
them in the air
by ev'ry folicle of hair cause Lewisville is on a roll, in
fact forget the prisons dump these serpents in a
hole.
Stupidity not tolerated by a boy or girl, that's just the
way I'd do it if it were a perfect world,
and all drugs would be legal ev'ryday I'd bet that
quick, in Lewisville we'd grip a non-existent deficit.
There wouldn't be a homeless person anywhere in
sight, it'd be so safe to go and travel anywhere at
night,
cause crime also's not tolerated in or out of place,
forget the diggin ditches shoot these fools to outer
space.
I'd reach the people ev'ryday I'm sure you would
relate, there'd be no chance of rape just food and
drink with ev'ry plate,
my nation would be touted on this planet as a great,
no chicken wings and fries we'd dine on rice pilaf
and steak.
A young Barack Obama running things with my
Michelle, for criminals of Lewisville a fate designed
in H31l,
or worse if I prevailed it's just a thought so let it twirl,
around your head it'd happen, living in my perfect
world.