The Homeless Man

The Homeless Man short poem

Photo by quinet

A man stood by the roadside
his shame he endeavored to hide
for being homeless injured his pride.
He held a cardboard sign in his hand.
It said he’d do whatever the task would demand.
He would work for food or money.
It didn’t matter for he was hungry.
He had such a sad look in his eye.
To look at him, made you want to cry.
Unshaven and unkempt, clothes dirty and torn,
he faced daily ridicule and scorn.
Why do you look upon him without pity?
Isn’t there one like him in every city?
Do you think you are better than he?
What? Don’t you realize that could be you or me?
Circumstances change from day to day.
We could find ourselves without a job or no pay
Living on handouts and other’s mercy.
So, before you pass this man by,
Listen with your heart and hear his mournful sigh.

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1 Comment on "The Homeless Man"

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Jayeola Olaoluwa

I like this. It’s just waow


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