She sits there staring blankly,
Her body thick as lead.
The bottles lay around her,
Now as empty as her head.
No hope to keep her company,
With nothing left to lose.
She’ll find her dinner in the trash,
Then beg for cash for booze.
She wanders through the streets at night
Approaching fellow walkers.
Her question always stays the same:
“Can you guys spare a quarter?”
~ The Unhomed
By Annyash760
Copyright © 2007 Annyash760. All Rights Reserved
For any of you that don’t already know, I’ve started a blog over at iamnation.com.
I’m considering a lot of ideas at the moment on how to develop that blog. I want it to grow from what it is now, into something quite different from this site—kind of whacky and wild, maybe?
Oh, and it would be so cool to sign up, especially if you want to blog for free! (Just a quick plug. Hope you didn’t mind too much!)
In the meantime, as usual, I’ve added some new written pieces in here.
Feel free to have a read and tell me what you think.
I feel the weight of who I am, upon my brow.
It causes me to frown.
Not so much because
I disapprove of the mirrored me,
But perhaps because I know I am all I have.
I help, I give, I support, I teach, I learn, but is it ever enough?
Something is awakened inside,
But in it’s struggle against
The reflection of the external me,
The one that others see.
It is overwhelmed by the weight of who I have become.
Then I see who I am reflected in your eyes,
A vision of a spark of awareness called life.
Always searching for meaning in that pool of light,
And the weight is lifted,
The burden becomes a gift.
~ The Weight of Reflection
By Annyash760
Copyright © 2007 Annyash760. All Rights Reserved.
Page 1 of 1 pages
