The Derelict a poem for the Homeless
Peasants dream as kings lying upon this nights pallet made of Daily News.. Kings dare not dream, for they live fantasies .. A poor man's vision of grandeur passes through the night as the sidewalk dies ...
Dreams lend fire to an old,
used to be blanket..
Closing the eyes tightly to behold what this world denies...

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Join free Log in2b2b2
Snaps....thanks for sharing!
Read 2b2b2's poemsCoalhouse
Thank you for reading my work!
Read Coalhouse's poems