A Life Poem by David Wood

No map traces their lives
It blew away
One winter's day
Along with their dreams.

They have lost track,
Time is now endlessly cold,
Young, but very old,
With the stare of dead fish.

Might as well be under Water
Lying on that cold sea bed,
Who cares if they're alive or dead?
They have odours of wet earth.

They are that derelict building
Still with yellow net curtains
Future - uncertain
They are all derelict now.

They keep park benches warm
Wrapped in yesterday's news
After a last drink of stale booze
Yet, like us they dream.

They are life's shipwrecks, who
Faced a storm they could not weather
Lost and at the end of their tether
With hopes and dreams long gone.

Their Christmas is spent alone
There's no Silent Night,
Nothing is calm, nothing is bright.
Just never ending cold and hunger.

But you can make a difference,
By not walking by.