Tags
#AmericaFirst, bag lady, homeless, Night Owl Poetry, poems, poetry
Displaced, job lost, she takes
to the streets in search of the
impossible
A wheel squeaks on a cart
as she pushes, the basket
filled with boxes and bags
A treasure trove
of all she has left, memories
of a life left behind
Picking through the garbage can
She looks for a bite to eat, a piece of
bread, a tossed apple, hoping for
a scrap
Finding nothing,
she continues, afraid to stop
moving forward toward a destination
unknown
As the skies rain down
She finds no protection
from the elements that pound
her unprotected body
Talking to herself, she asks
why, as leering eyes
wait in anticipation, an opportunity
to take all that is left
And in the darkening night
a street lamp gives no comfort
only a soft glow illuminating
the eyes of a lost soul
©2014 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Reblogged this on Ned Hamson Second Line View of the News.
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Pingback: Poetry Wrap Up – Weeks of May 4 & 11, 2014 | Dorinda Duclos - Night Owl Poetry
Reblogged this on Alyssa's Blog.
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How extraordinarily sad.
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Yes, and sadder still is that America doesn’t hesitate to send money to other countries yet imprisons those here who have to live under these circumstances.
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Absolutely.
Do they brush it under the carpet, as it appears from here in England?
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At one time they did, I suppose they still do. But lately it’s more arrests, including the people trying to help the homeless. I’m not sure what they wish to accomplish by doing so.
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REALLY!!?
I can’t even comprehend the mindset to follow through with those ideals!!
I fear for this planet when I hear actions, such as the ones you have described, are occurring!!
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I’m completely with you on that….it’s very very sad
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