I wrote this tonight for the young man that I quite often see sitting around in the neighbourhood that I met as a youth. I ask myself what can be done? what needs to be done? Where is his mom/dad? his family? He stands out to me more than any billboard or advertisement. any park or upcoming store opening. The things I think about at 2:00 am. The real question what will I do about it? Cardboard Sign Gees I barely recognize him The shadowed resemblance of a young man I once knew Aged from turmoil & defeat Appears close to resigning Seeking pity to gain spare change Never enough to rise above the mess To imagine this; his final purpose Skin weathered and beaten Eyes dark and empty Worn like an abandoned barn The smell of rotted wood The dirt and wear covers him masks his dreams And buries his potential Curled into a ball Snail with a cracked shell Passing by, individuals question Many create their own conclusions While others attempt to ignore Some throw the dog a scrap While others look the other way Against the theater pillar He sits still as a shrine A human being and his cardboard sign
Posted on: Tue, 18 Jun 2013 06:34:58 +0000
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