Poem By John Shea

A cardboard box is my home
In the city where I was born
Wine beer and rats are my best friends

My meals come from trash
Sometimes it's hash
Or a soft pretzel hard as an oak

I beg borrow steal
to get a good meal
Like hot dogs and burgers and such

I smell like hell
And would bathe in a well
But there are none

Spring showers are nice
They rinse off the lice
That reside on my half balded head

So remember me when
You strive to be thin

Because death is not choosey
About your lonely fat life
My life was chosen
By living alone in my strife.

Comments about Homeless

You speak for so many homeless and hungry people in the world John...a very sad but real piece 10+
this is a sad poem, sad as so many people are homeless and cant be helped. i have a poem about bein homeless too, its called 'with hope' maybe have a read? Lindsey
Very powerful and well written and poignant poem. Tops to you. Jim

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Other poems of SHEA

Dancing In Heaven

Dear lord here I sit with pen in hand
Hoping you will understand
Lillian will be dancing with the stars
With mother nature

A Poem

I cradle the travelers in their windy Birth,
My name is Mother....Mother Earth.

I Give them a bed in nature to lie,

Feathered Tears

I spied a bald eagle using the wind
To hunt for his prey.
He wandered afar as to leave my eyesight
Then soared with the wind

My Visitor

An English Sparrow flew in my kitchen,
A female because I know my birds.
She looked at me and said where are my treats.
I said the health inspector was here.

I Believe What.

That pie are not square
They are round

Best dog I ever had