Those Without A Home (Heavy Laden)

There is a hurricane.

There is a flood.

It is freezing out.

A blizzard will be coming tonight.

There is hail falling.

People are cruel.

There is a riot outside.

Men work hard,

to provide for their family.

Rightly so as they play,

with their children,

in their cashmere sweaters,

the beautiful loving wife,

is cooking the best steak.

How fortunate they are.

Some are,

and are not so appreciative.

As I work hard,

by looking for work,

the home I have made for myself,

is of cardboard boxes,

pulled from the same dumpster,

where a get my food.

That is only because,

no one can ever seem,

to spare a quarter,

so I cannot save up,

enough money,

to buy a bottle of water and bread.

These dirty rags,

have been on me for a year now.

It is not as if I choose to smell.

So before the blizzard comes,

I will lay down,


and close my eyes.


Reformed, reformed,

I promise that I am reformed.

I have not had a weapon in my hand,

since I was eighteen.

I have not made friends with bad company,

since I was eighteen.

I have not been on the streets,

since I was eighteen.

For the past twenty years,

I was in prison being reformed.

Now I am living on the street...

and the sidewalk...

and at the bus stop.

Yes, I am famous,

around these parts.

Everytime the police see me,

they talk to me.

When my old friends see me,

they try to chase me down.

When other see my face,

they are scared.


I survive.

Still, I am not mad.

There is no point in being mad.

Besides, I do not have time to be mad.

I hear that it be cold tonight.

I must find a roof to keep me warm.


Oh the things,

that I have done,

the things that I have witnessed -



lives being destroyed -

oh how sorry I am.

Oh Lord, how I ask for your forgiveness.

Because I have turned to you,

my old friends have betrayed me.

I have been fired,

from a well paying job.

Still, now I see the truth.

I see those,

who I often use to misjudge.

I see they are helpless.

Those who I often walked pass,

now I see them.

So as it begins,

to become cold,

it is time for me,

to go to my house,

whom I have turned,

into a shelter,

for those who have no home.





  • FineB

    Hello ForeverJesus6,

    An excellent write.

    It saddens me that in London there is so much homelessness. Rich areas such as Mayfair and Belgravia are now not exempt from this social problem. We should consider ourselves lucky whoever we are when we are not homeless.

    Keep writing

  • MissTess78

    I really enjoyed reading this poem...job well done!

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