Tattered and torn are my clothes
Unshaven and unclean
Weathered and faded is the sign that I carry
But to many I remain unseen
My only remaining friends
Are the voices in my head
Distorting my concept of reality
Sometimes I wish I were dead
Standing on the corner
Self-worth shattered and broken
Heads turn away in disgust
Their voice of inhumanity
To themselves already spoken
Transient, beggar,
Homeless and troll
Just a few names I’ve been given
In truth
I’m just another of humanities
forgotten lost souls.
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Author:
notapoet (
Offline) - Published: August 20th, 2016 13:44
- Category: Sociopolitical
- Views: 22
- Users favorite of this poem: Meghan_star
Offline)
Comments2
This was very insightful, it really spoke to me.
Thank you for taking the time to read and comment, means a lot.....
" Are the voices in my head. Distorting my concept of reality." Love this line.
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