The Lost And The Homeless

Like letters erased from the page.

Just left behind impressions of being

But no longer visible as themselves.

Spectre-like they haunt the dark corners

Ever watching as an audience,a stage.

The strings of their lives have unravelled.

Their days and their years are undone.

For a side-step has spiralled them down,

To footsteps that lead them to nowhere

On a desperate road - sadly travelled.                 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

In the midst of our yearly town fair I saw a man sitting huddled in a blanket beside a wall. Now I know people will say.." best place to get hand outs, any money will be spent on drugs, and I bet it's his own fault", but it's becoming a far too common sight in our town. And seemed even  more sad amid all the fun and laughter. And how can we know it's his fault, or that he'll buy drugs. Whichever way we look at him it's just as sad.

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