Post by Alexia on Mar 14, 2003 22:14:41 GMT -5
He huddles there out in the cold,
Cardboard boxes for his home.
A tiny bag with few possessions,
Before life out in the streets.
Passers-by ignore his pain,
Disgusted with his look.
Yet as I watch him everyday,
I wonder why the sorry gaze.
Hoping that he’ll grant me
A simple answer to my plea.
“Excuse me sir” I say to him.
He grunts and turns his head.
“Excuse me.” once again I say.
He laughs and turns away.
“Why is it that you choose the cold,
And not a nice warm house?
Why is it you choose to sleep the streets,
Rather than finding a place to sleep?
Moments pass in quietness,
As he ponders what I say.
Eyes softening as he looks at me,
With hair in disarray.
He pats the stoop beside him,
Beckoning me to sit.
Welcoming me into his domain,
And shares with me his life.
From his little bag he takes
A picture of what was .
Extending it with so much pride
To show his wife and child.
He had a home and family
To love in long lost years.
Then taken from him suddenly,
Forced to face his worst fears.
His stoop may not be much he said.
But it was now his home.
Now no one would take from him
What he now called his own.
Alexia - 2003
Cardboard boxes for his home.
A tiny bag with few possessions,
Before life out in the streets.
Passers-by ignore his pain,
Disgusted with his look.
Yet as I watch him everyday,
I wonder why the sorry gaze.
Hoping that he’ll grant me
A simple answer to my plea.
“Excuse me sir” I say to him.
He grunts and turns his head.
“Excuse me.” once again I say.
He laughs and turns away.
“Why is it that you choose the cold,
And not a nice warm house?
Why is it you choose to sleep the streets,
Rather than finding a place to sleep?
Moments pass in quietness,
As he ponders what I say.
Eyes softening as he looks at me,
With hair in disarray.
He pats the stoop beside him,
Beckoning me to sit.
Welcoming me into his domain,
And shares with me his life.
From his little bag he takes
A picture of what was .
Extending it with so much pride
To show his wife and child.
He had a home and family
To love in long lost years.
Then taken from him suddenly,
Forced to face his worst fears.
His stoop may not be much he said.
But it was now his home.
Now no one would take from him
What he now called his own.
Alexia - 2003
