Cold and Desolate Man
My mommy told me not to stare
I couldn't help it, his eyes were so
hollow and his clothes all tattered
I have always felt bad for them
Really I have, I try to give
something each time I pass
He should get a job, there's
nothing wrong with him. His legs
work, so do his hands. He doesn't
need charity, he needs a kick start
for a new life
He sits by me. Me, the old ruined
building. I give shelter on my porch,
shelter against the rain, but what will
happen to him when they tear me
away?
A new election is coming in my
City, I want to win, but I have to see
to the trash on the streets, the people
losing homes and the ones without.
I see them come, I see them go.
After awhile it becomes the same
Old weathered ritual, and now when
he leaves I think, what's one more
dead man on the street?