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

Vincent Moore
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Vincent Moore

Vincent Moore pens his thoughts about many things and has a style all his own. Sometimes, he parties with words excessively and it becomes necessary to publish quickly lest his work be lost in the dark corners of his room or his mind. Vincent will lead you into mysterious worlds that are strange yet somehow familiar, worlds that will leave you unsettled and breathless for more. 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.

9 thoughts on “I Am Moved

  • July 20, 2018 at 8:55 PM

    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.

  • July 20, 2018 at 9:21 PM

    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.

    • July 20, 2018 at 9:24 PM

      I must remember to sign in before posting a comment or reply, if not, I show up as Anonymous.

  • July 21, 2018 at 9:14 AM

    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.

    • July 23, 2018 at 5:24 AM

      Thank you Paul. It can happen to any one of us sadly enough. My heart bleeds for the homeless.

  • July 21, 2018 at 9:58 PM

    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.

    • July 23, 2018 at 5:37 AM

      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.

  • July 24, 2018 at 4:47 PM

    A most passionate and expressive write taking me on a poetic journey through city streets.


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