Will Work For Love Poem by Kewayne Wadley

We stood on the corner for hours, me and this cardboard sign,
Stenciled with the stinch of a dark black pastel,
Paint, still on hands,
Cars passed without a single stare,
The sun filled the space shade provided,
No longer an overcast that stood beside the buildings that leaned towards the heavens,
Sweat misplaced the tears that seldomly streamed between the cardboard and I,
The cracks that caressed the misshapened concrete started to feel the pain that took my love,
The heart that saught, not knowing how to feel whats been given so many times,
to ask for nothing in return, a metropolis of simplicity,
Still pleding,
The people whom walked passsed grinning, carrying their conversations,
Revealing the blankness that plagued their minds,
The reality talk shows, the misleading of news stories, the propaganda of material things,
Arms grew tired from the fingers
Holding this cardboard sign,
It sighed, dried paint peeling from the sun,
discarded,
Speaking constantly, only not to be heard,
Misunderstood as it didn't ask for quarters, nickles, nor dimes,
Only the sky could comprehend
Around the trails of exhaust,
smells of the different places that felt the warm breeze that passed,
The bridge that overlooked the river felt the warmness of the wind,
Merely Watching as we stood with a voice that would not be heard,
Will work for love