Castle of the Homeless

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Once upon a time when life was
much simpler and jobs were in
abundance I had a career a home
a wife and bills to pay like every
one else.

Then the rains came and poured like
acid over our soul with torrents that left
us drowning in loss and sorrows to difficult
to express for losses were high and freedoms
were fought for to stay alive with our dignity in tow

We gave in to great losses and our home
was taken away and given back to Shylock’s who
grinned and counted their commissions while the
for sale sign hung for all to see and friends and
neighbors scoffed and counted their blessings while
me and she were put out in the streets of lessons to
learn and tricks of survival in our future unknown. Our
home went to the highest bidder while we bled from
the curb.

Nowhere to go our belongings wrapped and stuffed in
suitcase and knapsacks full and spilling over with grief
We became like many of the lost and middle class was
just a dream and luxury once bestowed upon citizens now
lost to street abuse and cold nights of shivering and
holding each other tight.

We hung on to find a way to survive under a bridge we
called our castle of stone and laid ourselves down among
the vermin who occupied the stench of decaying garbage
tossed there by mankind’s ignorance and recklessness

Now homeless and penniless we struggled to survive each
day tougher than the next we cried in vain but no one listened
to our pain we were just another outcast from society gone to
hell with an economy slid it took all we owned with no tomorrows
just memories of what once was we slowly went insane.

In misery did we flourish not knowing what hour was the
time of day as each passed until the darkness overcame us
and we found scraps to set a fire to keep our bodies warm
and hearts in tact as ache they did from fright of nights
unknown when the dagger would be plunged
and looters would take us and toss us to the river below
our castle walls.

When, why and how it all went wrong we will never know as
we cough up blood and eat leftovers from garbage cans we
find and shove others to stay in line and wait their turn to
feed like cattle gone wrong we are lost and our bodies torn
and sick when once we had a life and knew love but now we
hate everything about living and we pace our castle walls
praying for the end and may it come swiftly to cleanse us and
take us to a better place maybe even Heaven.

 

© Copyright 2013 by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved



Comments

Castle of the Homeless — 10 Comments

    • Thank you Amy I felt that way as well when I wrote it. I see far too many homeless in our streets now. We need to find a better way to get them safely off the streets and into shelters, there are so many empty buildings, warehouse, apartments, surely we can use some of those. Our governments really need to look into this plight of human disasters.

  1. How sad. What a sad story. It honestly gave me chills. As a child, my family fell on hard times. Times when we were homeless. Times when we had no food. It is difficult to think that we could ever belong in such a group as you have described here . . . but, people do. Good people do. I’m still fighting my chills Vincent. This little story of yours has tapped into something inside of me that I buried long ago. Once again, well written.

    • Bella Nina, I feel most of what I write and believe me I was very sad and teary eyed writing it. I felt the pain of the homeless. I see far too many of them in our streets, hanging on the best they can to survive. We are seeing families with children in the streets in some areas of our countries and its’ got to end. Surely our governments can intervene is some positive way, free up empty warehouses and homes and let the homeless use them. Its not safe in the streets and more are being injured or killed by being there. Oh how sad, how sad indeed. I’m sorry you went through it as well, although I suffered in poverty and abuse as a boy, my dear mother was able to keep a roof over our heads and some food in our bellies, although at a great cost and sacrifice to her physical beatings from men in her life. Thank you again for your visit and words, they mean a lot to me. Hugs

  2. OH dear! i was NOT expecting this Vincent! Your work has been more upbeat of late, no? this was sooo sad! And – it comes on the same day that i read about a 103 year old women’s shelter in Cincinnati (i beileve) that was EVACUATED after a 5 year fight with a fortune 500 company who fought to buy the building – get rid of the women – and turn it into a luxury boutique hotel!
    SO- GREED rules – as of course – the women’s shelter ran out of money to fight..
    i am sooooo sick..

    • I am very sad for the people who are forced to live on the streets, not the ones who are there because they choose to be or not capable of living in the mainstream like most of us. I am sick of the governments who exploit us all and cause many of these problems for its citizens. No family, person, or child should go without food and a roof over their head. GREED is the issue and governments of our world prey on the weak and cast them aside like fodder spread to pigs. No wonder why governments are toppled and rebellion takes over. I sense one stirring in the USA, its time for the people to take back what is rightfully theirs and not let a government continue to ruin them. The economic crisis is looming and growing and it will bring on rebellion eventually. The US is becoming like the Roman Empire and it will crash too.

    • Thank you Veronica, it saddens my heart to see so many on the streets of our cities now, it should never be this way my friend.

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