Meat

Staring at meat;

Newspaper wrapped.

Eyes wide open,

Catching no light.

 

Streetcorner John;

Yesterday's tale,

Gone with the trash.

Empty white lines.

 

Nobody sings

When lonely men die.

No ceremonies;

No requiem.

 

There is a box

That once was a bed,

And gathered trinkets

That use to be treasures.

 

Life snuffed, but

No candles lit.

Only streetlights and asphault

will mourn.

 

Author's Note

.....

Reviews

[Aekmy]

This is very touching. The short lines represent something and help it flow. Lovely poem. Great job.

-Mary

[DC Gentleman]

Wow.. this left me speechless. One of the most touching pieces I;ve read in a while. The idea of a person . and the title.. "Meat".. speaks volumes. It makes me want to do more to feed the hungry in the streets.. be blessed brother..