Low, way below the wrought, rain and sun-beaten asphalt of man
Dwell empty, hungry, crying souls in search of the master's plan
Some black and some white, some young and some old
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I 'love' your rhyming and photo. The poem is an incomplete, but easily-digested story of a life most Americans will not see, except maybe the daytime 'walking city streets' part.
Stewart, five stars for this. I've been under some bridges, seen signs of human habitation, but never been consigned to such a life.
Thousands of people in this country are homeless, and you have depicted their life in a touching way.5 stars.