deepundergroundpoetry.com
No Charity at Home
Across towns and cities
they squat
the length and breadth of the land.
The forgotten shades;
mere shadows of the human condition
and signs of how low
we all can fall
into despair and disrepair.
While other people
complain about the declining state of the country;
discussing politics and beer prices
in warmth others can only dream of
as they huddle beneath the wind and rain
living the unlife of beggars and the homeless.
And I walk on by
because I cannot help them
uselessly dreaming of a better time
when perhaps I am a famous writer
and can afford to be more charitable in my charity,
or perhaps for a better time and world
when someone greater than I can ever be
stops and asks the shades their story
and dignifies them with some humanity
not just acting deaf and dumb
as they plead for pennies worth.
they squat
the length and breadth of the land.
The forgotten shades;
mere shadows of the human condition
and signs of how low
we all can fall
into despair and disrepair.
While other people
complain about the declining state of the country;
discussing politics and beer prices
in warmth others can only dream of
as they huddle beneath the wind and rain
living the unlife of beggars and the homeless.
And I walk on by
because I cannot help them
uselessly dreaming of a better time
when perhaps I am a famous writer
and can afford to be more charitable in my charity,
or perhaps for a better time and world
when someone greater than I can ever be
stops and asks the shades their story
and dignifies them with some humanity
not just acting deaf and dumb
as they plead for pennies worth.
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