deepundergroundpoetry.com

Signs

Is this my life?
Walking the halls a ghost  
Walking the streets a phantom in the crowd
The ground beneath my tattered boots
The ache in my bones travels to my heart  
 
Just as the sun rises, I am the moon
The happiness of others is reflected off of me  
Just as the wind blows, I am the piece of trash that drifts down the street  
You wouldn't pick me up, for fear of dirtying your hands
 
Each time you are full, I am empty
 
When you are nothing, everything's true beauty shines through
I see the stars, and am thankful I was able to sleep tonight  
I see the butterfly, which puts a smile on my face
For I know nature has not forsaken me  
 
Just because I'm not holding a sign
Doesn't mean there are none
Written by ConsequentialChaos
Published
Author's Note
I am not homeless. I have been blessed many times over. The same can't be said for our friends on the street, who suffer. As we near Christmas, I would ask that you keep them on your mind and help them if you can. Your act of kindness may be the turning point, that brings them to the light.
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