Cardboard City.

In back streets dark, cold and wet
Forgotten figures in corners slept
Ragged figures of human debris
Regrets and rats for company

Cardboard city land of the lost
Afraid of the living, in fear of the frost
Surviving on wits a day at a time
Circumstance their only crime

If fate decreed that they should die
In passing without a single cry
Alone for company only fear
Who alone would shed a tear?

There by fate, and not by choice
Souls in torment, with common voice
Drunks and addicts, so absurd
Vanish daily, their pleas unheard

So spare a thought as you sit to dine
Gulp your beer, or sip your wine
Things taken for granted, as we often do
But for the grace of God, it could be you.

by Graham Jones

Comments (7)

Souls in torment. Thanks for sharing.
This reminds me very much of one of my poems titled, 'Could Be'... particulary the last line. Absolutely a flawless write, Graham... great poem! ! Brian
Wow! This is one of the best poems I've ever read! I especially love the title in connection with the very complex and meaningful subject matter. Very well-crafted, superb imagery. It has emotional depth.
Graham I often write about the homeless/ 0h what sadness, when the world has so much to offer, a poem written with so much feeling.Just wonderful cheers Sylvie
Yep! Another great write from your pen Graham. This is very moving and a dramatic tale, so true, that it makes it scary! Love Ernestine XXX
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