The homeless are not unskilled.
The homeless are not unlearned.
The homeless are not indolent.
The homeless are not lackluster.
The homeless are not those unready to embrace the dawn.
The homeless are not hesitant to walk into the daylight.
The homeless are not feeble or sleep-drunk.
They are not oblivious to the voice that speaks in the tranquil night.
The homeless are not afraid to journey into the unknown.
They are not uncalled or undesirous of a new beginning.
They are not frail-gifted.
They are the unprivileged.
They are those who have faced unfortunate circumstances.
They are the voiceless.
They are armed but unshielded.
They are a dim light waiting to shine.
They are those in the depths of the stygian night.
They are those seeking the stars to illuminate their long night.
December 31, 2025.
Scum Buckets
(For a contest)
Can American’s be
As a whole, like a tree
With branches far and wide
That is constantly tapped
Collecting green sap
As in taxes from our thin hide
Out of hard working hands
All over our land
From Eugene to Nantucket
That fill’s Washington’s till
Where they convert it to swill
That’s poured into scum buckets
Where in essence, transpires
Is that cash vampires
Sponging conmen, that do suck it
Corruptly disperse
The blood from our purse
Into their sordid scum buckets
And so that scum goes
To places we appose
Were it spreads like a virus
But why should our pay
Be pissed away
To ruses undesirous
It’s time that they stop
Leeching every drop
Of our personal property
By declaring suck it
To their scum buckets
Which en masse we will empty
And without their scum
There will only be some
Left working in DC
And the rest will survive
Like all people alive
To benefit humanity
Tumultuous troubled fiery sea,
None else but the assailed can see,
Encroaching on the mind's stillness,
Ravaging its foundation terse,
Undesirous are the elements,
Each day's pursuits and sailings vents,
Come to your rest Oh! Vex tempest,
Let silence take the stage and nest.
Life's billows come in cleft sizes,
Life's vicissitudes as prizes,
Many are what we can't vision,
Hidden are their intent mission,
Unruffled are the ones who stand
daily to wage against the bland,
Life, like the tidal wave, has bouts
of successive rhythmic routes.
- l/27/2022
C-Form: Couplet Poetry Contest
Constance Lafrance
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