Unfortunate Drifters

“The End is Near”

The truth is what they believe,

They are found here

Sleeping in streets every eve.


The stench spiked the senses

Stinging the nostrils this due to,

The soot that dispenses

From off their face which stays askew.

To escape life's mundaneness,

Opened opinions are vocalized

Through the mudded tongue madness

To those passing by not surmised.


Begging does less to attract,

Though wishing to save this corrupted being

Is how some react

Because signs reading "God Bless" give deeper meaning.


If one looks past accusations of ignorance

And into the wide eyes that glisten

When copper and silver form a convergence

With a cup's interior basin.

Only one with an innocent mind

And honest eyes can see

Past the grime, and find

A hidden identity,


A life of struggle, undeserving

Of the taunting, the sneers

And glares being

Thrown their way for years.


How can fingers be pointed

By ones who think without repercussions

And believe to be better educated,

But negatively impact with their actions?

One knows it's bad

When those without

A roof over their head

Were right about

The signs inscribed

On the cheap scrap which appear

To state a message undescribed:

“The End is Near”


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