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You were the one who held my hand, You scooped me up and protected me. On nights that I could no longer stand, You would hold me until my crying stopped.
my guts are knotted uptwisted i've been overthinking my old nature of sin seeking left my heart unwhole and leaky nerves got the best of me anxiety keeps my chest sinking
I had a messy complicated life Some would say it's like a blizzard everyday But yet still ….. I love seeing smiles on the faces of others It makes me special
Take 1 Fighting, flying, fun, and frightening Home was rough, and school was nothing. Together as four was better than one. To grow up with siblings means that I've won.
First Rugged Rubber Rake Then Rugged Rubber rap In lumpy mucky rain Through golden gleaming sap Worn through a hanging sole Fat legs search for a cap
LEFT ON THE STREET ALL ALONE SO LONELY IN THE COLD AND DARK PLACE WHERE THEY AREN'T ENOUGH SPACE SO MUCH PAINFUL EMOTIONS CLOUDED ON THEIR FACES IT BECAME A BURDEN THEY COULDN'T EXPRESSED IN WORDS
It has been said that a penny found heads up on the ground is a fortune of good luck. The rain pours while the thoughts in their heads carves out of the pavements.
I saw this man alone in the brisk cold; He wore an eskimo hat to keep warm. A passing girl praised the hat, and behold- The man offered it to her, against norm.
It's a sad day on Lancaster Get fifty a day Living this way Makes for a sad day Tip toe around Left out on the ground No one else but yourself around
Laughter is all I hear. I hear the cruel whispers as I walk down the hall. I can hear you. I can hear their silent voices, smirking at the girl who walks -
Twenty one point three. Twenty one point three million. Twenty one point three million refugees Half of which aren’t even eighteen, Forced from home simply because,
I was born from drug addicted parents, but no one saw me. I father killed himself when I was at the age of two, but no one saw me. My mother was mentally ill and abusive, but no one saw me.
Not my fault, They say Not my fault that you could not make something of yourself, in a land that gives Everything... Not my fault...not my problem... Not my fault, They say
Not my fault, They say Not my fault that you could not make something of yourself, in a land that gives Everything... Not my fault...not my problem... Not my fault, They say
I come from the city that never sleeps, NYC, city where gentrification stimulates broken dreams, but evidently it's not as awful as it seems,
America the Great, or so she used to be... We the people traded in our life and liberty. We're slaves to media now surrounded by what other people think, struggling for independence like a spider in a sink.
We go about day to day seeking... Shelter, Food, Safety. We go about night to night hoping.
I open my eyes and hear the streets of New York City I look up to see only bystanders filled with pity My daughter, she wakes up from her cardboard bed She asks me when she'll be fed "Soon baby" I said
We raise the best soldiers And make the biggest bombs We carry their caskets on our shoulders While we continue the war on Islam But it provides income for stockholders So the Government tells us to stay calm
How can we say we live in the land of the free while the homes of the brave are being taken away How can we ignore the illness and poverty suffered so immensely
The city roads are full of potholes. The railroads creek and squeak with the passing of heavy machinery. I sit in the garage at my borther's home. I am a homeless college graduate--in debt.
My life has been hard, this year was no different. Half way through I realized I'd missed it. From being comfortable and never alone, We were left without a home. In our car is where we stay
I sit in my house with warm clothes and a bed to sleep on, yet I complain to my mother that our wifi isn't working. "My room is too small and I hate this neighborhood",
Christmas time brings upon cheer But this is the time Sham went to jail Sham as in mom The first woman my Gay ass ever loved Caretaker The woman who Birthed me out her canal
A'int rattling no coins, I'm workin', I'm on my way. Not on display like some toddler, Gon' make someone proud today. Dancin' in the fire like a greedy moth, I'll take the heat, I'll eat the flame,
You sleep in a bedI sleep in the streetsI'm your shadow You eat at restaurants I eat from garbage cansI'm your shadow You're treated with respect and careI'm left in the streets, helpless for others to stareI'm your shadow I'm human just like you,
In the biting cold I walk, Barefoot and in tattered attire, My dirty pants, ripped at the knees, Folded at the waist and tied to my body By an old and dirty rope coming apart, This is me, this is morning,
Your Cathedral Sized Heart By PUNCH May 2014 PERHAPS A thought of never seeing you again found me reaching for this pen
You look at him, he's all alone Still no one looks at him He's crippled and worn, Tall, filthy and thin. Accompanied by no one Except for his shadow He lives on the streets of New York
Being young and homeless having possesion But dont own shit the folks that put you out on the streets hide behind a good class I can see thru a good glass what lies behind and beneth the classification of help is help
Shadows, Acrosss the field, Across the meadow, Across the lawn and across the room, As the adults yawn and the children snore. Lollipops, gumdrops, Nightmares and blessed dreams,
Swirls of red angrily coated the walls. Nightmares whispered in the wind. She saw him in the flashes of lightening. We sat together in a bus-stop. Alone, just her and I.
She was tall and thin, old and grey. When I looked at her my blood ran cold. She had been kicked & beaten, battered and bruised. Her name was midnight,
I am not afraid of dying, but instead of living without love. I am not afraid of falling, but instead of watching from above. I am not afraid of crying, but instead of laughing on my own.
She clutched the broken objects, Held them to her chest. They constantly mocked her life, Called it a mess. But they couldn’t see the tears,
I am screaming from the subways. Will anyone here me? Will I ever see better days? I am hungry and my stomach pains are showing no signs of ceasing.
I knew her one time, met her on the street outside our library Her black braids entangled, an greying Her scent of peppermint and wood reeked loudly Her voice even stronger against the strong bearded wind.
Yesterday on the subway We sat Discussing politics or gossip When a blind beggar spoke. Stabbed in the eye and homeless He blessed the crowd for their generosity Which had yet to be proven
"Can I have the-" "The 5 dollar footlong? Yes, you may sir!" He chuckles softly every time I finish his order for him His name is Lorenzo and he lives down the street in his 'man cave' as he likes to call it
To question who I am and what I've been through
Worn eyes stare gently at my shy privilege
He walks at home in the streets alone a lone light Glimmers as his day starts to fade a satchel for his car and a lighter for his fuel he drifts off into another star evening
I hang around In this room I pretend that I own, I feel so ungreatfull for the life I've been thrown, and the friends I have grown, In a house full of homies and I still can't help feeling alone,
We are migratory kids, From our own native home, End up in cities looking for life, Strive here and there for life and food, Sleep and live under bridge and streets,
I come fro
A side of me that no one saw, weak, pathetic, crumbled down black
i had a chance to share the joy that i had always known and so i stood and raised them up and brought forth tears from stone it's such a shame that they were shocked
To that homeless man who sits ashamed on the streets
She completely tore him apart.Molecule by molecule he started to evaporate,only there was no cycle of reincarnation this time.
Superheroes are not those in capes They are the ones in drapes Covered in rags They suffer and have to go day to day Not knowing if they will live or die Whether they will eat, drink
The rain pours outide This library echos with the raindrops. Singing a stormy song. Outside, It is a different song to sing. Animals, Former pets, Try to dodge the raindrops With no prevail.
Money To breathe, to live
This poem is directed towards my eldest brother... who has been on a heavy drug addiction for the past year. He has a 5 year old son who he barely sees and has got himself in a lot of trouble with the law. Hour Glass of Tracks
The city is painted with the half lifeless bodies of what we once were wasted in every sense of the word
See the people in the streets, barely any clothes on their backs and no shoes on their feet. They have nothing but empty bottle packs
Hungry on the streets
I hear the music No one else hears And I wander through the streets. I sing along but They can't see me. What I have is such a treat! I'm the invisible man. Super Special.
A few streets down away from this perfected outer shell of blissful indulgence that we have created lies a city of distorted faces, starvation, violence.
I'm the man in the sky I watch you with my hazy eyes Take my hand I'll set you free Step into my reality Here there ain't a ceilin' with walls
Passer by Stops to view a cloudy sky. My eyes, keen to believe with a spirit to survive. Third eye is clouded with the fog, from the sadness I feel when I see a man without a home struggling.
The way they live, eat, and dress It's sad to look, for you do not care I like to look because I truly care Do you ever think of those people? I do. Watching them steal or beg for a dollar or two.
Don’t pass by that guy on the street He has a name you see He may not be your typical friend But speak to him you just might see He is the one who has been forgotten He just lost his job last week
Like a puppet with ripped strings I hang limp from a tree that is rooted in bad seeds. I have no direction and no recollection of anything but the present. Everything else is blocked out and I always want to shout.
We walk past, ignore, and don't even aknowlege the people on Earth viewed as peasent to most the look of fear in their eyes and destruction on their souls as they walk down the road they happen to call it home
Only in a house filled with people may i feel homeless,i have no say, no way to get out but stay in..
We don't know what he went through We don't know why he ended up where he is All we know is what we see We see the a guy that has no where to stay
Concrete Jungle City terrain converges with the murky sky above in the dusty shade they share. A symphony of sound permeates the humid air as machines and people hum through their daily cycles;
Is it because me and my gurl dropped out Our sophmore year of high school, for becoming 16 yr. parents? Was it us taking that risk? Or was it life we decided to miss?
My images were distorted, a played out fiction book of torn pages and darken memories. A scripture that I will never forget,
Look at that cold damp bench guess what ? that’s my home A dagger to my heart that led me to this
He has no home she has no water he's cold she's hungry
I saw that man on the side of the streetBegging for money for food to eatCause his last meal was two days agoAnd he's dying of starvation but you just say "So?"Desensitized to the pain of these people
they come in all forms tall short old young they come in all sizes petite large small skiiny fat they come in all colors light dark
Atlanta(G) (A) Met a man today,...swore he's from Texas
Atlanta(G) (A) Met a man today,...swore he's from Texas
Seldom do I think your not powerfulA servant of JoyA peace initiation for the Indians of SenecaA LoveA FireA beautiful path in the light of foreverA reminder of effortless serenityPush me down
America's highways are all Route 66 America's highways are all Route 666 Why'd the hobo cross the road--to get the other side Dotted yellow line a new kind of divide Thumb out, took his last free ride
My dream job is not too popular, but one that completes me. To feed the poor, clothe the naked, share some water if need be. It calls me when I see the homeless. It calls me when I feel hungry.
I hit you, You hit me harder. Down in the gutter, No room to barter. A pack of smokes, That's fifteen years, Fifteen years less That I don't have to See your face or
The cold woman caught my eye It is strange though I never once saw her cry Or even heard her bellow The words to a tune of a lost soul The homeless woman stole my attention How could she live
Siblings of the Street, I'm sorry you have been forgotten. No family left, the only mother you have if one of Earth. Her hugs are cold, and her skin rough unlike the hand we should have given you.
Homeless People on every corner Begging for spare change Giving up their pride In hope for a life’s exchange
Boston is such a beautiful city, Especially in the winter. Don't you love the lights that shine On the trees near Quincy Market And the laughter you hear From the people all around you?
I got ideas on my mind, but not a single dime to stop this. Everyday that I see oh man, suddenly i feel compelled to give. They walk the streets. No baths or money to eat. What do I do?
What is a man to do Left alone cold, with the flu He lives in heat but shivers at night Alone afraid without he cascades into light He sees the sun and feels only colder
An outcast laying low, hiding in the shadows of the Earth’s chattering inhabitan
The weary hobo grins at the past Although it wilted much too fast His lips upturned he embraces the curve Of life and the universe Somehow he owns nothing but luck
How I envy you, wanderer, how I envy your every move, your every emotion, your every thought. How I envy your paradise to have the stars themselves cover you as you wander eternally.
Brisk coldness Forgotten and Ignored Muddled in a mess But never alone
Walking down the sidewalk and all I can see Is the sad old man looking at me. He begs and pleads Sitting on his knees. My heart breaks My whole body starts to ache. This man lives in the street,
Having the power to make the weak stronger Noone deserves to be made little I would tell the homeless to seak a job And they would find one I would lend them a hand to help them Off the ground
A man stands In the winter cold covered in snow. His scarf
They told me to marry rich,to marry "up."But we could make plans to live in cardboard boxes on city streets lined with blankets and flowers.
As I walk through these concrete New York streets I see pain staken faces begging for a bite to eat. Curled up, freezing cold, lonely and lost, no home, no car.
"I Am - The Homeless"
Those donation boxes for the local animal shelter, school supplies, coats for the winter, clothes for the homeless, would be filled to the brim. Overflowing with fabric, food, pencils, cans,
Lines of bodies piled one behind another, Sons, daughters, fathers, and mothers, Looking for a few walls to cover their heads, Hoping a few mouths could be fed. But there was no room in the inn, said Jim.
On the streets is where they stay. The survival of the fittest was underway. The kids walked to school every day. They passed by nice houses on their way. The grown-ups all took the bus. Getting fare was all the fuss.
The little man with the tangled beard sits huddled in an olive green jacket dust and snow caught in the wrinkles A stained sheet draped around cold shoulders edges shredded to
Half-mad with cold and hungerthe rattling of his cup a gunshot in her ears.She averts her eyes,unable to stare.
shreds of winter hair shroud stippled skin,weathered by one, two, many weekscrouched and soliciting in the steady glowof our capital’s sun. Once full lips shrivel,struggle to form the one simple word
A gnarled hand grabs my sleeve. Lightly, hesitantly, but desperately. I'm pulled to look; Forced to see what I've been avoiding. A woman looks up at me, With ribs showing through the worn clothes
Today I saw him A homeless asking for food He just wants to eat
I used to look down a lot My head full of melancholic thoughts And myself so weighed down I could not stand up. In fact I was falling, deeper and deeper into a depression
A cold world Living in a cold world Seeing things you don't want to see
Trying to refine me and define me, But you don't want to test me. I may be as sweet as a rose, But I'm pretty tough on my toes. I know I'm not perfect, But in the end it will be worth it.
I am the one who fought for you Because it’s what you asked. I am the one who would have died for you If to me that is what you tasked.
Sitting on an invisible desert Screaming for Help No one hears you Your voice is plastered on a piece of cardboard No yellow brick road for you
You see a homeless man Standing on the corner of the road. You see vehicles Passing by him. You see women and children Scurrying to the opposite side of him. You see the world
Theres no rhyme or reason just changing seasons pondering, thinking without a doubt why am I so fearful without a route no where to go, no where to hide time is running out, I don't like this ride I wonder what if what if I could leave to leave th
Childish Innocence ripped away, it’s now dark outside, yet it is day. “How can they smile, laugh, and play?”, when my childish innocence was just ripped away. Accidently created, always viewed with disgust,
I had spent days, what had seemed to be months clenching to the piece of life I had. I was lost, in a chaotic silence, hoping and praying for redemption, for savior.
Here and there, the unheard resides A face so unsual A face no one can describe A face, ignored Abandoned in the cold forest alone A thunder stops by and turns to the other side
Peeved delivery truck drivers Honk and beep at each other Grumbling About the nightmares of rush hour Over the harsh babble of cars Empty beer bottles crack
Ever wonder why everybody cannot be as fortunate? Burns a whole through my brain, its scorching its Stories behind faces that can be torturous. Think they're just asking for money? No, there's more to this.
The shit I wish I could tell my teacher would probably get me supended. But once the shit I wish I could have said probably would have saved my arm. Bullying was killing me inside. Going through all differnt changes with my body and feelings.
The ball bounces against the crack of the drive Two little girls laugh as they miss the backward shot. Dusk disappears like their childhood
Those eyes blazed Jaws wide with rage Looming so large above me All I wanted was to play Teeth through flesh Warm red water covers me All is fear All I wanted was to play
Why doesn't anybody care, as they pass him in the street with his empty, hollow stare? A shell of a man, nothing left inside, I wonder if a light once burned, behind those vacant eyes,
This is for the man on the corner of First and Dunn with a sign that breaks hearts and makes everybody run home to their heaters and high-tech computers
I have no room to judge Living on the street, they never seem to budge Living off a dollar or a penny Everyone's afraid to give Thinking that people gone spend it on henny But that's how they learned to live
Not once in my life have I heard someone say “Could you spare some change?”; no, they expect we will pay. They sit with their signs, black words in black scrawl, and hope as we each walk on by, one and all.
Painted Smiles August 12, 2013 “Would You like more tea?” Knowing and seeing that I had enough, She smiles showing more Teeth Whiter than most. With her Painted Smile
Harsh and cold Is the shattered concrete Click clicking beneath the feet Of jostled ignorance Heavily breathing Pant panting anxiety Beneath these metal ghosts
As I walk down the street I see all the faces; The happy, the sad, the downright mad; Some might believe they are always this way; Soon you'll know that's just not true; The mad man at the bus stop,
Growing up isn't easyThe struggles are endless. No one can mentally prepare you for what lies ahead,in 7th grade an enlish teacher showed me how to cope with the madness.
Appearance, they couldn't do much. Battered clothes hang off the shoulders of them. Conquering the battles of the homeless people was my mission. Dead people walking is what they seem to be.
I woke up one morning to a very dark day I couldn't go home my parents they went away the streets aren't so friendly theres terror in my eyes No place to call home I'm all alone in the night
My home Is a dumpster and I lie by my bat. Afraid to move and disturb the rats. I walk with a shopping cart to transport my goods. I walk through alleys and hoods.I had a bike I stole from a yard. Now mine is stolen and walks are far.
Everyday I wake Early in the morning The sun is at the Sea line And I know its the perfect time I Walk through the house And to my masters room I lick her ear And she awakens too
I've been sitting on this concrete for as long as I remember, Regret has left my soul years ago. I just try to admire what I have now. As I ask the people of my free country for the giving,
There is no greater felon, than that of the innocent bystander: He who sees... Does no wrong. Does no good. The person who witnesses pain and suffering and,
I've never had an owner Yelped, whined..those didn't work And you've never had a pet I waited for you to sleep.Then ran away;
Behind a metal door, My heart begins to feel sore. It’s been beating painfully for days, I’m hoping, just pleading it’s a daze. Pairs of eyes dart from me to a friend.
Will they come by again,Those humans with the brand new leash?I’ve been in this shelter for a while now,I wonder if I’ll ever leave…
You're so sad, your tears illuminate a dreariness that words can't describe, you're so angry, the wrath of your fury is something you can't hide.
I walk past wonderful, wounded people, with nothing of worth but the words of my mouth. Isn't there more than empty words? Isn't there more to life than this?
I used to meet you in the park. You had pride- you said. "This is only temporary. I'm looking for a job, Not living on welfare."
Here I stand with a poster board in hand. I look at you as you try to avoid me. In your A/C, as you turn the radio up. I'm struggling. I am dying on my knees, when I want to stand on my feet.
when I was starving when I was left for dead when I was abandoned or
That one feast during that one time of the year That one moment when calories don't matter, we have no fear Across that one big table we can barely see Through that one turkey big enough for the entire family
Home is the place where we belong It is the love in the paneling- it builds us up, makes us strong; to believe in who we are, to know that there is place for going back when we've gone too far.
Beauty is . . .
You’re at a red light and a homeless man approaches you And you act like you have nothing when you’re sitting in your BMW
Life—stops in a moment Bang, cut, gone. Safety—is an illusion Zip, clip, done. Survival—the one goal Teen, street, alone. How—did I end up this way? Hit, Fist, door. So—here I’ll stay
And such was the day, that America died, when those who had served, fell, and protected were shunned by those who they had defended..
The homeless starve on the streets, And the people never stopping, never sharing a glance, never sharing a thought.
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.
At the corner it stands. Resolute. An unmoving, unfailing symbol of strength. It's seen much. It has seen a lost child wandering, the shadows of dangerous men, the rush of runaway lovers.
The way he stands makes him look fragile, But I bet, back in the day he was agile. His back curves into a dramatic arch, His steps, so loud, it’s like a march.
You smell so good when you walk by me. You ignore me and keep walking as you always do. Your beautifully pressed white coat and shinning shoes Walk past me kicking some snow in my face.
the scars on my back show the long nights i had to work. the scars on my back show the srtuggles i been through the scars on my back show the pain i indoored when i lost my grandmother
My snakeskin eyes are full of haze The dams that held strong, the tears give way My heart is heavy, but with nothing inside Kneeling down in the ashes, I cried The malicious wrath blazed through my house
Children, Quiet nights, chubby toes, imaginary friends in class. Water balloons, ice cream trucks, green blades of grass. Children, Mistakes made, processing death, moving away with dad.
His blue eyes looked into hers "If you could have one thing in your life what would it be?" a simple question yet he didnt expect the answer that came from her mouth as her eyes welled up with tears she told him
Carbord, sharpie marker, to me is making a way asking for help asking to be loved nothing wrong with that coping with it stress trying to make it better What's the problem?
They are just like us, From characteristics, To emotions. They lift our spirits, On our darkest days. They always want to Be with us Even if we ignore them. They complete Our life.
Thought to be a normal plain Jane day Cali, Columbia in beginning of May, uprooted and thrown like a weed in the garden. Squealing sounds derived from son’s mouths, waiting to be told we’re moving out.
I want you more and more with every breath I don’t even know you, but I love you I know loving you will be so easy
Come to me, oh child of the green. You're ways are cruel and mean. And I, the beast, am calling you home. To the depths of darkness unseen.
Day after day I look through these bars and wonder why I'm here. You left me. Strangers look at me like I've done something wrong. Why won't you come back? Wasn't I good enough? Did I do something bad?
One day I was homeless... I was a stranger, someone showed me kindness, love and hope. Someone believed in me and was compassionate. A social worker at the shelter, that I will never forget, who was also an immigrant.