by steve1223adelaide, South Australia
Oct 2017 726 Views 2 comments
GHOST
Hunger gnaws at my innards
But I have no money
And nowhere to call home
I drift past shop windows
Where I can see people inside eating
To the point of gluttony
But I might as well be a ghost
But I have no money
And nowhere to call home
I drift past shop windows
Where I can see people inside eating
To the point of gluttony
But I might as well be a ghost
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2017
About this poem:
A sad fact is that the homeless and destitute in our society might as well be ghosts. They are mostly ignored and overlooked as if they did not exist.Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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Comments (2)
This is so touching - stark and to the point - and so very real to many people.
Excellent write
SCatlyn