not the fortunate son


Why doesn't anybody care,
as they pass him in the street
with his empty, hollow stare?
A shell of a man,
nothing left inside,
I wonder if a light once burned,
behind those vacant eyes,
The rain has smeared the letters
on his tiny cardboard sign,
But, no words are needed
to convey what's on his mind

Can you spare some change,
maybe a dollar or two....
Just tryin' to eat,
and maybe get a cheap bottle of booze...
You have no idea,
how it makes me feel,
to have to beg you for a dollar bill

They're bothered by him,
the filthy bum,
Why should they have to see this vagrant scum,
Nobody looks in his eyes,
no one asks his name,
Just a homeless drunk,
aren't they all the same?

But, you don't know where he's been,
don't know what he's done,
Where do you think he lost his legs?
He's not the fortunate son,
Returned home broken,
an outcast of our land,
You see him as an eye sore,
I see him as a man


this is a poem just to make people remember that homeless people are PEOPLE . You spend at least 2 dollars every day one something silly like gum,soda, candy. Why not help someone in need?


so inspiring! love it . i work at the food bank its so sad.


Love love loved this poem :)

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