cont. of series
Enjoying the crisp night air
When I happen upon a shabby man
His clothes..holes and tears
He reaches out to me..
His hands black with dirt
His nails, chewed off and broken
"Ma'mm, can you spare a few dollars"?
I try to scream, yet my air escapes me
He looks puzzled, itching his mite infested
Hair..looking at me as if I was in the wrong
"Well, piss on ya' then"
He says
And slowly walks away
I gain my composure
And come back to sanity.
Poetry by Teala
Read 478 times
Written on 2006-08-06 at 04:42
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Hobophobia- Fear of bums or beggars
Walking down the street at nightEnjoying the crisp night air
When I happen upon a shabby man
His clothes..holes and tears
He reaches out to me..
His hands black with dirt
His nails, chewed off and broken
"Ma'mm, can you spare a few dollars"?
I try to scream, yet my air escapes me
He looks puzzled, itching his mite infested
Hair..looking at me as if I was in the wrong
"Well, piss on ya' then"
He says
And slowly walks away
I gain my composure
And come back to sanity.
Poetry by Teala
Read 478 times
Written on 2006-08-06 at 04:42
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
keith nunes |
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Arti |
