Skip to main content

Standing On The Side Of The Road

"Standing On The Side Of The Road"

I am standing here on the side of the road - 
Trying desperately not to be seen
It is the middle of your busy day
You do not notice me with your latte
Guarding against the cold wind-
Frozen inside outside walking here and there
No mansion or house to put my belongings, no one to care-
I am standing here on the side of the road-
Not the trash you just tossed away
That latte and uneaten muffin, my only meal today
Standing here, shivering in the city alone
No one to shelter and love me in the biting cold
You are busy, I know, but see me please
Life is not pleasurable or one of simple ease
I once had a home and a family too
Rushed through life, busy like you
Forgotten and discarded in the corner cafe
Wishing for more than your morning latte
My only hope, made it last all day
Trying hard not to be in anyone's way
Standing on the side of the road
It is where I live, where I grow old
Please remember when you rush by
That in my eyes are dreams as I cry-
There is more to me than what you see
If you are not careful, you can be me.

Copyright 1/3/13 by Tayé Foster Bradshaw Marketing & Communications Group®

Used with permission. Photographic Copyright 1/2/13 by Carl Edward Helenkamp III of Endless Moments Photography LLC, https://www.facebook.com/carl.e.helenkamp

Comments

Anonymous said…
Very sweet and moving.
Dana said…
Sweet poem. It makes you think.
Laura Lee said…
You present so well the dichotomy of trying not to be seen and yet desperately wanting to be noticed. We are indeed just one false step from that woman's plight; it's the thought that crosses my mind whenever I encounter a homeless soul.
Diana England said…
A very moving poem. I found the last line shocking. A powerful ending.
Unknown said…
That's a nice work sister, the worst part is that if all billionaires could fill their empty mansions, wings and appartments , there wouldn't be something like homelessness, I like it.

Popular posts from this blog

Waiting on the Dying

There was a primal scream so loud is shattered the chandelier overhead. Fists pummelled the stiff body lying in repose on the velvet cushions inside the polished mahogany. Utterances of anguish emerged from many decades of compliant silence. Unanswered prayers now to be buried in the heavy chamber of clay. Fury burned the eyes were widows tears should rest. Strong limbs enveloped heaving frame pulling back to life. Wells of unspent tears erupted like a levy broken flooding out unspent waters. Screams of rebuke to the sewn lips and penny shut eyes for the years of fire from a controlling tongue. Weeping and sobbing to heaving and breathing the clay to burn fury in hulking frame no more. Gentle touches and breezes to douse the pent up searing of the soul to be released for a tomorrow yet to be. Too much living lost waiting on the dying to end the chain that binds.

We Must Change By The Hand

Deny Destroy Defer Disgrace Dreadful Double Speak Death Destruction Demon Devil We must change, we must change, we must change.  Children should not die at the hands that hold weapons such as these.  We must change.  Rights are not rights to slaughter. Nonsense in mass murder. Cowardice in suicide. Children should not die at the hands that hold weapons such as these. 12/14/12...not again...my heart hurts for Newtown Connecticut and the 20 children and 6 adults murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary School.