Sunlight glints off high-rise paradise,
too expensive for those drugged up eyes.
Looking up in bleary wonder
as the rats rummage
through his sleeping bag,
down on the street,
where he slumbers.
Cardboard box,
to stop the wind chill.
Pops another random pill.
Stops the pain in his head,
dulls the self-hate,
the wishing he was dead.
Pale bone China skin,
brittle, cracked, heroin thin.
Says a feint hello,
Through nicotine yellow grin
'Can you spare some change
I'd like to find my place
I lost it somewhere in my mind
A great many moons away'
Digging his own grave,
it's somewhere
to get away from the world.
to which he’s enslaved,
this world that is frayed,
that causes fear,
leaves him afraid.
With heaven's help
would he stand a chance?
With these demons that he dances
does he only have hell awaiting?
Is there a ray of hope?
Or just another day of taking
anything he can
to get from day to day,
before the reaper comes
to take it all away.
Thanks for reading
please check out my new book "In Shadows"
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