Outside in the cardboard world
silhouettes cover the cardboard views.
You don't see us move or witness our truths,
only see flickers of shadows crawling through.
You don't see the petty infighting,
the world only lit
with dim, strobing, street lighting.
You don't see the looks of disdain
as faces quickly glance away.
You don't feel the pain
of being ignored every day,
or being kicked in the ribs
for daring to ask for change.
Outside as the clock chimes,
another hour - could be a lifetime.
Our only lifeline is the escape we seek.
Every blessed skipped heartbeat,
every time we fall into sleep.
You only ever speak
of the blight on your streets,
like our lives are unworthy,
our mouths not fit
to taste the air you breathe,
or eat the dirt
that you throw to the ground,
whilst you walk
oblivious to our voices.
Not hearing our gurgled sound
as we sink ever further down.
Out here in the cardboard world
it's survival of the fittest.
Sickness is our last witness,
as we feel the chill biting our fingers.
The crystal cold so pretty to you,
could be a death sentence to us
in the graveyard crew.
You lay bricks of blame,
building walls of shame.
Have digs at our cardoard frames
as you walk past,
like this life is some kind of game,
where you always roll sixes,
whereas we lose our dice
in the world's fittings and fixtures.
We are not here for greed,
our stories feed the streets
and the air we breathe.
We just want to feed, be warm.
Is it really causing you harm
to share a little compassion?
Or has caring
for others gone out of fashion?
These cardboard streets
were not a choice you see,
life just played out
our stories differently.
It took away dignity,
left us capsized,
a boat at sea,
and the waves of humanity
can be crushingly
uncaring.
Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff
continue to do this.
Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
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