VIEW FROM THE BLIND SIDE

aaaaa

One foot follows the other.

The wind’s a biting chill.

My coat’s threadbare and worn to lint

And my mind will not stay still.

To a place that houses homeless.

That shelter from the storm

For a short respite where a body might

Feel the wealth of warm.

But, cold is a constant companion

For we who drift through time …

Judged by they … the priviledged few …

Who deem us riddled with crime.

Out on the street before sunup.

Back when the sun leaves the sky.

Too proud to beg the cost of an egg …

Yet, so hungry you just want to cry.

 

Yeah … one foot follows the other.

 E.W.Smith