Homeless Hope

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
The hope of a homeless man.

Submitted: July 06, 2010

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Submitted: July 06, 2010



My hand outreached meant nothing to them,

They thought that I was high,

I had heard how we were portrayed in the news,

But who was supposed to know it was a lie?


My sign read homeless,

It was written in blood and laced in tears,

I had no money for pens you see,

And no, I didn’t waste it on beers.


Every now and then someone would listen,

And toss their bus change at my head,

I scamper after it in glorious hope,

And retreat to my rain soaked, cardboard bed.


Maybe in an ideal world I’d have enough money to eat,

But what I’m saving up will help clear the huger from my head,

The sad thing is that when I awake,

Some youngsters would have stolen my limited fund for bread.


You can laugh and go off to buy your sweets,

But this world doesn’t have mercy on those who doubt,

And I’ll be here waiting in my holey socks,

Waiting for this karma system to play out.

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