in the dark corners,
of peeling paint,
flickering bulbs,
some live there,
some because they have to,
some because it's who they feel they are,
they can't pretend white picket fences,
lane ways leading to big homes,
on the water,
but rather the dark corners of the city,
where the refuse unloads,
rats scrounge and the homeless shuffle with a staggered hope,
places near to me,
I wonder about those kids,
riding rusty bikes,
with dirty pants and dirty hands,
lonely faces,
retreating behind broken doors,
windows that let the cold wind whistle through,
can they sleep?
do they feel safe?
can they at least dream?
can they at least dream?
single mothers,
single fathers,
single people,
exhausted behind paper thin walls,
peeling paint and flickering bulbs,
praying for energy, time and money,
eyes peer out at me from the darkness,
maybe waiting, lost or scared,
home nevertheless,
places near to me,
I'm no better,
I hope good things happen for you someday,
you'll make some money,
you'll have clean sheets on the bed,
and heat to keep you warm at night,
and heat to keep you warm at night,
I'll walk by again,
your eyes will be brighter,
you'll have a new bike,
clean pants,
and there will be some flowers in a jar behind your new window.you'll have a new bike,
clean pants,
6 comments:
i have come back to this a second time now, thinking about it.
my first response was, everyone has dark corners, have fear even within white picket fences. but i also have lived with bare light bulbs and cold drafts, pretty much do now.
and i know we are sympathetic toward people who have less and with great struggle.
my only hope is that there can be a balance of joy and struggle. i guess what i am saying, what i am trying to do here is bring everyone to the same level. we are all struggling, trying to die knowing
that maybe we have had love, moments of joy, laughter and a sense of well being, that our lives have been full and recognized by someone.
~robert
you have me thinking H.P. thinking hard about who we are if anything but mostly how we need empathy and acceptance.
this really captures our city and those cities beyond
what a struggle we're in
I hope the end of this poem comes true. Unlikely, I know....but I hope nonetheless.
You found your voice in this poem. Best work yet. Serious!!!
Stunning. Poetry is supposed to make you think-- this does that an more. I feel a movement in me when I read this.
Great piece, HP. There are too many of these dark corners to let us sleep soundly at night.
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