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”