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.


Please note this login is to submit events or press releases. Use this page here to login for your Independent subscription

Not a member? Sign up here.