The Men On The Corner Poem by Aerin Andre

Those men on the corner.
Yes that corner, the one you casually walk invisibly through everyday.
Have you seen the men that stand at this corner.
These men just gawk at traffic for the mere fact of annoyance.
The pain strewn across these bronze stained canvasses. The vessels freeze in place for a view of these men. Never such decadence has been seen other then by these aliens of alternating awkwardness.
The color drains from the temple till all that remains is a blank slate.
What will come of these men on the corner?
The parcel of belongings is all that is promised to these corner nights, though they stand gallantly.
No opportunity has ever been offered.
Yet unbeknown to those who flea past the crime scene lies all the self promise realized.
A chance, even a mere gamble can change this.
The men on the corner I hear your screams.
The anguish visible streamed through the pasty gray gravel.
The desolate surroundings that harshen the mellow of the skittering species, but yet here they stand.
A construct avoidance each day for they stand and heave through disappointment.
The men on the corner I fear that our paths shall never lay interwoven through the knitting of a unknown power.
For I shall recognize these warriors on the corner because the cast away their armor and don’t ask for pity.