The Only Title that Matters- a poem

You shift your eyes swiftly towards me before you look away with disgust, or is it fear?

You shuffle your feet away rapidly, but at least you noticed that i was there.

 

Yes, i stand in the corner with my cardboard sign, but at least i stand for something.

You think that i’m unproductive to society, but let’s see you make a life out of nothing.

You see my brother across the street, my sister jittery and distracted.

She’s talking to the voices in her head again; it must be the drugs or some disease she contracted.

 

You don’t think about how we got here, the only thought You give are ones of judgement.

Well, we all must’ve done this to ourselves; we’re wrong, we failed, we even asked for it.

 

You preach about your fancy religion and talk about a God who is forgiving.

But all i know is a broken system full of apathy disguised through giving.

 

i always look forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas because i know that you’ll always be there.

You may leave with the season, but i’d like to believe that for a while you cared.

 

When it’s hot we have hate as our shade.

When it’s cold we have stigma as our blanket.

When it’s dark, we have nothing for a light

but the occasional kindness You show—and it breaks the rhythm.

 

Unfortunately, it only lasts for a little while, that beautiful lit candle before it dies.

The cycle then persists to continue, forever fueled by Poverty and Lies.

 

Over time, I’ve come to see life the way that you see me:

it’s broken.

it’s corrupted.

it’s pointless.

But please, call me by my first name.

 

Hi, nice to meet you, i’m Homeless.

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