Poetry: Dispossessed and Discolored
7am standing on the corner of Laclede and Spring Ave.
The rain is drizzling the black canopy above
Under the Humphrey’s sign, dull and lifeless without power
Just like the bar inside swallowed in darkness
Half awake it feels like a dream and I worry whether I should be here or need to go home.
Just about the time, I think I’m the only one crazy enough to be up this early on a Saturday-
The Laclede Coffee Company isn’t even open yet!-
A man walks around the corner carrying two trash bags and a barely useable umbrella.
He just looks at me and smiles as he says “Morning” walking by.
His clothes are all torn and dirty and he is obviously homeless
But the rain doesn’t deter him from “working.”
As I lean against the cream brick building waiting,
I watch him stop further down the street to pick up soda cans and bottles lying in the gutter and on the sidewalk.
Crushing them with his soaking wet shoes and then tossing them into one of his garbage bags,
He walks on down the road even as the rain begins to pound heavily on his tiny umbrella.
I look out across the pavement and it seems that the world only consists of monotone grays.
Color seems to just fade from everything
The grass and trees are no longer green but light gray and sick with sadness.
As I stand there, with no color in my sight, every building closed, and no one with me, I ask myself what is missing…what do I need to do?
There is this emptiness inside carving a larger hole in my heart than ever because that man could be me in the near future.
The world is getting evermore bleak
And with all the chaos going on in my mind, I can only wonder, “When will the sun shine again?”
Have you ever been homeless or was friends with someone homeless?
Comments
Well my dear, I am not one for darkness after all the years I spent without colors, but this poem is powerful and in a dark way beautifully written.
- Author
Thank you. I am glad I did not disappoint.
I voted up and across. I did your survey.
Now for the prose. How beautifully and sensitively this was worded. The language is just sensational. You tore a hole in my heart.
Homelessness is hopelessness. There is only a tiny percentage of the homeless population who choose to live on the streets. The rest - well - no hope.
Brilliant hub. Brilliant.
- Author
Thank you. I really didn't know how many people lived like that until I got to college and saw it. Parents try to hide that sort of thing from kids, ya know?
- Author
This poem seemed a foreshadowing for me. I had been renting rooms and house jumping since college. However, not until recently after getting married and finding a nice home did I think every thing would be fine: "The Sun."
Then the landlord unexpectedly decided she wasn't going to renew our lease and wanted to move back into the house for personal reasons. We had nowhere to go and less than a month to pack our stuff in storage.
We had to stay with friends for another month before we could find a place. Five people in a two bedroom apartment for a month is a heavy burden. We are very grateful to all those that helped us.
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