Stories Poem by Midnight W

Everyone has a story, even the homeless man on the street, but do we care? How did your life begin, and what were your dreams?

Maybe you'd have a beach home, with a boat floating next to the dock.
Your life would be good in the sun, but now that dream is smashed on the ocean rocks.

Dumpster diving for your next meal, where did all the country's wealth go? Hookers getting younger, no parents to hold them, everyday someone different to blow.

Now the weather is getting colder, and Christmas is coming around.
Rich families gathering around their big pretty white trees.
A man who lost it all on the street, with nothing to eat, looking into their perfect life, his body full of fleas.

Fake laughs inside that gorgeous home, everyone pretending love is in the air. Grandpa sitting in the corner,401k gone, lost it all as the market crashed, life isn't fair.

Screaming woman in the hospital, pushing out her fifth illegitimate baby. Young eyes looking up at a mother he'll never know. His life story is gonna be the next slim shady.

Everyone has their stories, read them as you look into a stranger's eyes. Through the pain, we share laughter, a united body of beings.
Lastly, see the aged man dying, eyes dimming. He is going to make new stories now, as his soul begins to fly.