Man On A Glasgow Street Poem by Daniel McDonagh

Man On A Glasgow Street



I’m a destitute Roman Catholic
On a long road but a short journey
To the sanctuary of St.Kentigern’s.
The drizzle rain of saddened tears
Has emotions being stretched apart.
I’m a small man on a Glasgow street
Being pushed around by strangers,
I’m walking young but feeling old,
The pace is a crawl.
Thoughts are well liquored
Trying to find my future, finding my life,
I’ve matured within these two years,
I’ve seen the devil’s way of life
In this country that’s now a skeleton,
No security for men and women,
Redundant life is society’s existence,
My head never lifts to see the sky
Or the sun that can make my life warm.
This rain city of depression
Is run down and suffering,
Can the blowing wind that stretches our faces
Blow us away from this world.
Glasgow town, once of song and dance
Waits for an applause of relief,
There’s no “Band-Aid” for us,
Our survival rest’ on weary souls,
Souls that would rush to heaven
But the courage has already died.
There’s a man on a Glasgow street, that man is me,
I’m a man who hides his poverty,
But my face reveals my reality.

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