I am the nameless and faceless one
Whose eyes you seek to avoid
I make my home under the overpass
My very presence
Makes you feel uncomfortable
You don’t know how to respond to my plight
You’re not sure if I’m reaping the consequences
Of years of bad or sinful choices
Or if I’ve fallen victim during these tough times
Uncertain if you should give me a buck
Buy me a cup of coffee on that cold winter morn
Or if it’s all a scam from someone too lazy to work
When you see me fear runs through you
For I’m a reminder just how close you may be
To living under the overpass just like me
By Susan Bunts Wachtel
July 16, 2010
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