Homelessness Poem by Joseph Ikhenoba

You can see from crystal balls,
Clouds of storms,
Rovering around.
Homeless.
Somewhere in Philadelphia.
Covered herself in a dirty rag.
Wrapping another round of nauseating powder.
Under a bridge.
Where no one cares.
Alone with her thoughts.
Listening them.
In still silent voices.
Not always like this.
The hyenas in power,
Ate fat pork.
Threw bones on the hopeless.
High housing.
Tilling and tilling sod soil
Yet, nothing to show for the harvest.
On the left side of a broken stead
The hyenas kept grinding white powders,
Flogging a dead horse.
The centre has shattered.
And an eagle cannot hear an eaglet.