Let him eat,
let each sixty cent slice
of pizza be celebrated
as if a treasure, and
let him drink,
wine at a dollar a litre, and
let him laugh,
loud and unabashedly toothless;
let life’s edges
be blunted for just these nights
that forge onwards
like locomotive through snow,
fifteen years
homelessness, starvation, abuse
trailing behind
like great clots of steam against the sky.
Let him those small pleasures,
at least.
Homelessness, sometimes it’s not what it seems, only a way of life!
Nonetheless, not for all to enjoy..
chris
Ps;
Nicely written!
Indeed Chris, everyone has their own reasons. Thanks for your thoughts
Compassionate poem . very humane .
I like it much
Beautiful poem. Made me sad for the discounted lives and the stories that will never be told.
Thank you
Very nice …