Fog it falls
Around streetlight
An eerie glow
In nightimes sight
The beggar
And the rich combine
One drinking meths
The other wine.
Stars that watch
With open souls
Amidst the glow
Of heavens show
Reach downward with
Arms outstretched
Injustice growls
Its cruelty etched.
Upon the faces
Of lifes unkempt
From cardboard box
Wishes spent
Upon the cold
Of pavements grime
A blankets comfort
A lonely time.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: June 6th, 2026 03:35
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 33
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS
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Comments4
Norman this one feels indeed lonely and cold. You have set it well and placed it all in rhyme. Nicely done
much appreciated read, thanking you
You are most welcome Norman
Norman, this hit me hard. There’s a stark humanity running through this piece...the fog may blur the world, but it seems to sharpen the realities you’re pointing toward. The contrast between comfort and hardship lands with real force. Powerful poem, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
so kind, thanking you always very much appreciated my friend
Good write N. A lonely time too waiting at that bus stop. Did everyone else give up and walk or go back home?! lol.
simply faded away lol
Fine words Norman, this just should not be happening in our world there is enough for all but those who have more than they need will not let go of it.
Andy
well said, thanks for reading, much appreciated
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