the homeless

dragging their past in their worn shoes and plastic bags
skin frail from the harsh winds that hit them everyday someone neglects their  card board,
shivering trying to keep it straight enough to have it read, but such eyes bypass the strangers call for help
eyes dead and depressed
praying for their "happy ending" or at least a simple place to rest
with stomachs that cry more then their eyes, fingers cracking from holding the cardboard too tight, scared the law will take that from them too, their cardboard tends to break down from the neglect-ion
they want to go home, but its not in their possession
how does one not hear the cries in-between the gaps of words on the cardboard
praying for you attention
they old their hearts out to you in a cup..
hoping you can pick them back up