Dirty Sidewalks
Food for the hungry from where shall it come? Stomachs. restless hearts weary, darkness to sun. Dirty sidewalks. grit, grime no shoes upon their feet, Crumbs scattered here and there, out of trash cans they eat.
They cry. “Oh, why have we been cast so low? Such an evil winds grasp how wicked it does blow.” Fresh tears a deluge from the saddest of eyes, Though hunger strikes their bellies their tears never dry.
So forlorn their souls; agony grasps their hearts, Against a graffiti covered wall their lives fall apart. They are the forgotten cast quietly upon the wind, And along the grimy sidewalks they finally blend in.
© Cynthia Clark
