The old man scratches his beard. His beard
is wisps of silver thread, woven into a smattering of grease.
The wind rebels in invisible screams across
the gloomy skies. Rain falls upon the sidewalk, pooling into a gentle river.
The old man sits in the river. He wears a
shiny yellow raincoat, which repels the beaded rain droplets. His legs are
covered in rain pants; yellow, to match the jacket. On his feet he wears shiny
boots made of gummy rubber. If only...
The old man sits in the river. He wears a
torn old t-shirt. The writing is so faded the words are lost in age. His legs
are exposed in his jeans, the denim is shredded. His feet are soaked; they are
only shielded but old rotting meshed runners. The man shivers, as water penetrates
him like cold icy needles.
People cruise the mirrored streets in cars
and crusty old trucks. None, ever look in his direction. Except to taunt and
tease.
He’s alone, sitting in the rain. He licks
away the raindrops but they have a salty taste.
I have a soft spot for the homeless. I saw one and it just broke my heart so I had to write about it. I cannot image, living on the streets and nothing to show for. Please review.
My Review
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Wow. That was deep. Short but very emotional. Your use of description and the fluency in your writing is astonishing. There were only a few minor grammatical errors, but nothing serious. I loved the ending: "He's alone, sitting in the rain. He licks away the raindrops but they have a salty taste. He's eating his own tears. I have nothing, is his final thought. He dies on the street."
The world can be a cruel, brutal place at times. People forget about the poor and needy; they are happy to get on with their own lives, not caring about the people who are unfortunate or inferior to them. There are just so many people who are homeless and sick, that nobody cares anymore. But it is a very difficult problem to fix. It shows a really good perspective on how people perceive one another and the dark isolated cruelty that streets provide for their inhabitants. Very touching and intense
nice! the descriptions are strong here! and you paint the image well!! I think where you have "none, ever" you should have "no-one ever" and I wasn't too sure why you added the ha! the way you did - but asides from that - it is a strong descriptive piece showing a sight so many see - and even more ignore! I really liked the "he's eating his own tears" and the I have nothing (which is where I would have ended it - it leaves it open to us to decide his fate) - nice work!!
you have a talent for descriptive narrative, bring to life the words you write. well penned indeed. this is more than a story, more than a description. its poetic.
Well written
I often stop to chat to the homeless, talk to them ask them how they ended up this way, I'll buy them a meal and a hot drink, I have even given some clothes if there so cold, people shoud care, for but for the grace of god....
This was depressing, yet the descriptions were beautifully written. You always have such short-short stories but they are always very powerful with deep meaning, thought, and a lot of passion. I too have a soft spot for the homeless so I really enjoyed this piece... the ending just pulled at my heart strings though.
This was so powerful i felt the last line in my chest. i feel the same and sometimes i'm guilty of the same offense. We all want to help but sometime the actual step forward is the hardest. 'Humanity is taking a turn for the scary' if i may quote my own poem(DISEASE OR CURE) and we need to stop all this evil staring at us straight in the face. This was a truly poignant piece and it speaks out against our inhumanity.
Excellent touching heartfelt piece.
I can really feel it, so relatable! Its so sad, the whole story touches us. its hurt when we watch people die on the street just because they have no home, its just... hurt When we have a warm home and stuff to eat, people are suffering form the hunger and poverty, and thats hurting our feeling!
Great Work!
I also have a soft spot for the homeless. I always end up giving them dollar bills when I walk down the streets in D.C. Everyone else hates to do this, because they assume most homeless people are drug addicts. In fact, only 3/10 are... which leaves 70% good people with misfortune!
You never cease to amaze me! This was so heartfelt, it was filled with sadness, anger, and a sense of losing oneself. You really captured this wonderfully.
What a really sad poem. I can feel how this topic really touched you inside. I feel like the homeless man described in this writing doesn't have family that loves him. I think you did an interesting job translating your emotions into the imagery presented here.
Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.
- Carl Sandburg
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