I Am Moved
By the blind man as he puts one foot
in front of the other, and his white
cane his guide to survival.
The old woman pushing the awkward
grocery cart along the sidewalk,
bent over and determined to
survive another day, with all
her possessions in life, hanging
over the edges.
The long grey haired old hippy,
that rocks back and forth as vertigo
takes him for a ride, and the last trip
he had back in 65, was his destiny
on the lonely streets of hell.
The homeless young and old seeking
shelter from the storms, that left their
lives in a shamble, looking for the light
and warmth of another night in the
streets of every city.
The youngster running away from the
abuse at home, and wandering the streets
all night long, in pursuit of kindness from
someone out there who may give him/her
a hug of kindness?
The old man with withered hardened face,
who hides a thousand stories of life, he smiles
and shares his toothless grin, and holds within
until the one will find him, and let him
open up inside.
The pregnant girl so early in her young
life lost, as she struggles to be accepted
by the world who decides her fate with
distaste, she takes a wired coat hanger
and stabs between her legs, and death
ends the birth within.
The poet who walks the nights and
mumbles under breath, of rancid booze
lost in words, he drowns with hope that
someone may hear his message and take
abode within his soul.
Moved I am by life around me, and the love
that comes from all who carry a heavy
burden as they wander this world of ours
and kiss their fate with hope for a better life.
I pray that the lost will find, the hearts will
mend, and their souls will be uplifted as they
seek peace from the streets, alleys, bins and
sins of their families.
© Copyright Vincent Moore. All Rights Reserved
He was born and raised in Montreal Canada among the Irish, Brits, Italians and French. Point St Charles (commonly called The Point) was the Hell’s kitchen of Montreal. He played, cried, laughed and fought on the street corners, survival was an instinct and watching each others back important. Vincent left home at 17 to find his way in the world, failure and success he had plenty of. He studied the Arts and loved to draw and paint. Took acting lessons and envied those on the stage under the bright lights and hoped to some day become an actor, writer, playwright or painter. Vincent welcomes you to his world of mystery, fantasy and solitude. You can find a few of his writings in one of 3 books he's published.In Absinthia- In Melancholia and In Passionata.
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A touching write but stark reality of homelessness and despair in human life. When I was in LA I could not believe the amount of homelessness. Of course it exists in Australia, but nowhere to that degree. Awaking early there was a body in just about every shop doorway. The world can be a harsh place, and all any of us need is love and understanding. I pray for these souls too, but the world now only caters for those who fit within the plan. Nicely emoted and penned my friend.
When you consider the amount of immigrants pouring into California, it’s no surprise. Offering Sanctuary cities to criminals doesn’t help either, but that’s another issue, I detest politics. But sadly your right Tony, it’s in every country now. We have our share here in Canada. When I walk about my area, we have pan handlers on every corner, cardboard sign carrying is common place now, asking for change or food. It’s so sad indeed, you would think with so many Federal Buildings vacant in places, they could convert these to living quarters and help clean up the streets. It’s a very serious problem in LA in epic proportions. Loving, understanding and a helping hand from more affluent persons certainly will help give these homeless a hand up. Handouts are important, but a hand up better still. The plan indeed Tony, the geopolitical world we live in is very harsh.
I must remember to sign in before posting a comment or reply, if not, I show up as Anonymous.
Anonymous….like everyone you wrote about in your piece Vincent. They have no names just faces, faces of the harshness that life has handed them. And we can pray for them, but some of the time they do not want to be saved. It is so sad. Well written my friend, nice work.
Thank you Paul. It can happen to any one of us sadly enough. My heart bleeds for the homeless.
Vincent, this is a stark and vivid reminder of what is now commonplace in most big cities. Many turn a blind eye or try. There is so much that could be done but Governments and those in a position to do something have more ‘important’ issues. My heart bleeds.
To think of all the empty buildings all over the place in any given city in our world that could be used as housing. It would help get them off the streets. Thank you John.
A most passionate and expressive write taking me on a poetic journey through city streets.
Thank you kindly Rasma. Much appreciated.