PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Out here in the cold


This poem isn't made up to help others. It's from personal experience to help you all understand. Also, a quick note, it was in August 2011, I used 09' in the poem for rhyme. In Raleigh Just outside the city I must say I would not take pity I lay here on cardboard At the stars now I stare But I am not so bored With a glance at each glare Its midnight here Despite these new faces I hold no fear I'm relaxed at new places And next to me A man I'd never met before A man so free But bound as if captured in war He was all the way from Belize He traveled north for his family So far as if from overseas He knew a trade but no luck had he He was expert at fiberglass repair When I asked him of his trouble He spoke of a situation unfair Yet even after this fubble He said U.S. was best He had lived well at home But here all seemed a fest Here he wanted to roam He was to get his GreenCard in New York He'd do it that month. August 09' To this day, I hope him they did not 'fork' Even now I hope he's doing fine The day in question, when we got lost He was already near lost and hungry And with that, who knew what it would cost I made it my mission to help him, see? I did what I could without regard for myself Greyhound can only give so much when you're broke Even then I feared U.S. left him on the shelf The feds might not really help this man... poor bloke I went far as I could to help my new friend All over the Carolina's and Georgia then we went All the while, nights were spent with one eye opened It was only days... felt like ages, my story to sent For those who don't know hunger For those who don't know discomfort For those who think they do For those who don't know fear For those who don't know courage For those who think they do For those who don't know compassion For those who haven't walked a hundred miles in another's shoes... And for those who think they do... Take a lesson in humility. Go the hundred miles. Barefoot, like I did. Then you will understand, it's not 'bad' so much as different and much more adverse.
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

TheComplicatedCowboy

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.

Log in to leave a comment.