Queen size
His queen size bed is the hard concrete we walk on
His 100 percent cotton pillow is his right arm that he lays on
His 1500 egyptian thread count sheets is the same clothes he had on for the past 3 weeks.
His central air is whatever breeze blow through the city
His next door neighbor is the world
And its not letting him get any sleep
So Just remember when you step on that concrete
your stepping on someones queen size bed
A place where a homeless person lays their head so he or she can get some rest.
👁 1💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
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.