Another day, and she sighs
Pain seeping from her drained eyes
Can't go on getting high
I could have stayed, she cries
The streets, they’re cold and bare
The people, they don’t care
No time for talking; they just stare
She thinks of people, people from nowhere
No hurrying along, must prolong
Hey mister, got a shilling for a song
The day drags on, money all gone
The people start on home
And into the night
She’s again, alone.
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Comments1
There is much dignity and beauty in this poem Paul, you have given a homeless drug user a pedestal with compassion and empathy actually breathtaking poetry friend. ❤️
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