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The Homeless and the Housed


Said the homeless to the housed:

We all grew up on the same block,

Some succeed and hide their plight —

In the land of plenty, home of free slaves,

A star-spangled show of might —

A place of hot air and taunts,

Where most of what’s wrong seems right.

Said the housed to the homeless:

Perhaps you didn’t wind your clock,

We bought our blocks long ago

And know what your conscience craves —

An ounce of self-worth, to go —

But the chasm between need and want

Is where the plain folks die or grow.

Inspired by comments found here.

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