Street Life


United States
41° 52' 28.5492" N, 87° 50' 24.8676" W

My cologne has a striking resemblance to the city’s dirty laundry.
Only difference I cannot contain my secrets to a hamper
or wash them away with bribery.
That stench unfortunately is must.

I’m soiled in the filth and grime
street cleaners never seem to remove -
the garbage that becomes my only meal.
The corner: my humble abode pedestrians disrespect
by walking through in their shoes and never bother
to greet me or apologize for their lack of manners.

Have you ever swallowed your tears
because they were the only thing close to water?
Held an entire conversation with God
and those in passing thought you were merely insane?
Ask for the pennies in a person’s pocket
because you know the true value of a dollar?
Gazed at the stars and realize that they
are just as insecure and alone?

When it rains, my cardboard mansion
withers to a soggy blanket. The heavens
are mourning and the weeping is healing.
Leisurely stroll through the park to watch
the sun make the flowers blush
and the wind tickle the trees .
I then remember the beautiful
every day keepsakes forgotten by skyscrapers
and hazed by the fumes of sports cars.

If you ever wondered how my life
brought me to this circumstance, my response
is God had to reveal to me why He is God and god alone.

Guide that inspired this poem: 



I believe alot of people find themselves in this sort of situation. This poem is beautiful written and heart wrenching but many share this agony.


Thank you so much for your generous words. I had wanted to write a piece like this for quite some time and could never muster the words to convey such a powerful and compelling story. I still believe this is one of those pieces that will continue to grow as I do.

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