• Homeless man

    A strange sensation, loneliness, I know
    When you have nothing, feel nothing, nothing…
    The harsh coldness of the concrete beneath
    With walls of paper keeping the heat in?

    Hiding away, eyes cast low and unblinking,
    Watching the ruthless footsteps upon the ground
    Unbeknownst to the jitter of ignorant faces.
    Away, away, returning to the warmth.

    The warmth of a family, a house, a home,
    Remembering the feelings of comfort; the past
    Before I fell behind, begging for more time
    Then big, bold, angry letters taped to my door.

    An anathema to the world around me
    I sit, like filth tainting the perfection
    Of analogous streets and bus benches.
    Detested, abandoned, forgotten…

    The streets are home to many, I too
    Survive but do not live; the injustice
    Bitter melancholy of pitiful conclusion
    Alone, alone I am the homeless man.