Love Poem: Said the Homeless Fellow
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Written by: Al Juman

Said the Homeless Fellow

Homelessness is so sad.
Slowly it crawls into you,
takes you from yourself,
lock you in a world you never taught existed.
The fright in the night is the worst.
You see ghosts of the dead and the living. 
Drugs and alcohol become your patriarch 
to pull you through the nights.
Here! Water becomes a luxury,
no toilet or bath and definitely no privacy,
and how it vexes the humans should you open their tap 
for a few drops of water.
They’ll shout and scream even as you praise them with thanks.
God forbids on thanksgiving comes a few plates,
A scorn from the humans in their faces dries you up,
fills you up, impede your soul, 
should the earth open at that moment
you would jump in.  
See that lady wearing all those dirty clothes,
So disheartening.
Would you believe she has a masters degree,
and was a regional manager for a fast food chain.
Being workaholic not always good,
It took her marriage, her kids,
and everything she had.  
Under this bridge is now her home.
So we don’t know we don’t judge.
Why we do what we do leaves a gap in our thinking.
That lady fed the poor on thanks giving
but never had I seen a plate reach her on thanksgiving.
why? because she would wait to the end 
making sure everyone else had the chance of a thanksgiving dinner,
then she’ll eat the scrap off of our plate if there is any
and she’ll say I am not hungry.
She got more joy watching everyone enjoy thanksgiving.

 ©Al Juman 10/10/1998