Homeless: Our Broken Selves

Homeless: Our Broken Selves

 

BEN ON THE STREET“Get out of the fucking doorway

you goddamn bum!

I’m going to work!

You almost made me

drop my Starbucks!”

 

broken

huddled

alone

 

“I hate the homeless!

They stink and I’m afraid

it’ll get on me.”

 

broken

huddled

under bridges

sleeping in doorways

shivering in the cold

 

sick

with

pain

 

sick with hunger

 

sick

with

helplessness

 

“Sir, some change, please?”

 

“You want change?

Get a fucking job

you piece of trash!”

 

our trash

our brothers and sisters

 

the homeless

are our trash

 

who worked

on farms,

tilled the land,

back breaking labor,

soldiers

sailors

poets

mothers

friends

built houses

tended the sick

cooked

nursed children

veterans

teachers

fathers

 

our brothers and sisters

 

how do we

mend

this torn fabric?

 

How do we heal our

broken selves?

Speak Your Mind

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