Hobo Eyes Poem by Linda Mary Rachel Haungs
Hobo Eyes
Looking into the horizon, winced eyes glazed with fear,
and sorrow..The hunger for life screams out..Yet, not
a soul hears..
Gathering tid bits to eat, a newspaper for cover, from
lonely cold nights, hardly replaces a blanket.
Through the Hobo eyes, I see the light, and realize,
my place in this life...My home, my bed...my loves...
These keep me safe and warm, at night....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/29/2026 2:25:09 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
wow...i love it it's a good thing to learn from the mistakes of others. now you never have to be a hobo! ! ! ! !