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