To a Homeless Person
I am a ghost among the crowd
Between the living and the dead,
As a shadow or passing cloud
I drift without a home or bed.
The days are long, the night's are cold,
A cigarette's my only friend,
My face is worn, my marrow's old,
Resigned to wounds time cannot mend.
From bin to bin I roam each day
On my unconsecrated feet,
I save what others throw away,
For scraps with vermin I compete.
An exile of society,
With neither dignity nor care,
Whisky is my sobriety,
What little's left I'll gladly share.
For long departed from this earth
Am I, and from my fellow man,
An animal of single birth,
Do I survive, as best I can.
Poet Other Poems
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- A Lamentation
- All Mortal Creatures Pass Away
- Amid the awful multitude
- Beneath The Dome Of Ancient Night
- How Cruel This World In Which We Live
- If I Should Wake Up and Be Old
- The Clouds Amass
- The Constellations keep their Time
- The Solitary Rose
- The spider knits its silver web
- To A Friend
- To a Homeless Person
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