Homeless
Homeless;
- Down by the muddy Mississippi
Skinny as a rail,
Sleeping under the old Eads bridge
Feeling low, dirty, and frail -
Homeless;
- With less than two coins
In both pockets,
Empty eyes
Look through sunken sockets -
Homeless;
- So many people walk right on by
I wonder how many care,
They all keep moving
Even though they stare -
Homeless;
- Lost a job
Lost a home,
Lost a family
Lost all hope -
Homeless;
- Where will I go from here
What should I do,
I'm so thankful when the weather's fair
And the skies are blue -
Homeless;
- Don't know the day nor season
And, yea, it sure gets cold at night,
I've got an old sleeping bag
I'll be alright -
Homeless;
- There's so many of us out here
Without a home,
Even so
I feel so very alone -
Homeless;
- It's a tough situation
Not pretty, just true,
And at any time
It could happen to you -
Homeless;
- Hey buddy...
Could you spare a dime,
And say a prayer for us
... sometime -
- I'm just homeless, not less human...
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Related quotes
I am Not Homeless
I am not homeless
there is a number on my door
a room mate cat quilt desk sofa
spray bottles under the sink.
I am not homeless
on the train initiated
showing a monthly ticket to the guard
I am not homeless
at my desk in the office
expected to talk beg
bring in the business
give them the business
business as usual or get the hell out
I am not homeless
in a world of obligation
scrambling to pay rent
electricity gas oil phone commutation
food food food
I am not homeless —
unless I am expected
to feel at home.
poem by J. Barrett Wolf
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Homeless who writes on a ballot!
Homelessness describes the condition of people without a regular dwelling. People who are homeless are unable or unwilling to acquire and maintain regular, safe, and adequate housing, or lack 'fixed, regular, and adequate night-time residence.'The legal definition of 'homeless' varies from country to country, or among different entities or institutions in the same country or region.
The term homeless may also include people whose primary night-time residence is in a homeless shelter, a warming center, a domestic violence shelter or other ad hoc housing situation. Government homeless enumeration studies also include persons who sleep in a public or private place not designed for use as a regular sleeping accommodation for human beings.
If the Citizen are good
Then why should a Police Department?
If the Citizen are good
And a Homeless becomes the President
Then why do they bother for another Election?
*'A Moral collapse, culture of greed and selfish indifference is to blame for the recent riots.'
-British Prime Minister Mr.David Cameron
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Chronically homeless means constantly homeless; it means repeatedly homeless.
quote by Linda Lingle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Homeless
Emaweni webaba
Silale maweni
Webaba silale maweni
Webaba silale maweni
Webaba silale maweni
Webaba silale maweni
Webaba silale maweni
Webaba silale maweni
Webaba silale maweni
Webaba silale maweni
Webaba silale maweni
Homeless, homeless
Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake
Homeless, homeless
Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake
We are homeless, we are homeless
The moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake
And we are homeless, homeless, homeless
The moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake
Zio yami, zio yami, nhliziyo yami
Nhliziyo yami amakhaza asengi bulele
Nhliziyo yami, nhliziyo yami
Nhliziyo yami, angibulele amakhaza
Nhliziyo yami, nhliziyo yami
Nhliziyo yami somandla angibulele mama
Zio yami, nhliziyo yami
Nhliziyo yami, nhliziyo yami
Too loo loo, too loo loo
Too loo loo loo loo loo loo loo loo loo
Too loo loo, too loo loo
Too loo loo loo loo loo loo loo loo loo
Strong wind destroy our home
Many dead, tonight it could be you
Strong wind, strong wind
Many dead, tonight it could be you
And we are homeless, homeless
Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake
Homeless, homeless
Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake
Homeless, homeless
Moonlight sleeping on a midnight lake
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Somebody sing hello, hello, hello
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Somebody cry why, why, why?
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Somebody sing hello, hello, hello
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Somebody cry why, why, why?
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Yitho omanqoba (ih hih ih hih ih) yitho omanqoba
Esanqoba lonke ilizwe
(ih hih ih hih ih) yitho omanqoba (ih hih ih hih ih)
Esanqoba phakathi e england
Yitho omanqoba
Esanqoba phakathi e london
Yitho omanqoba
Esanqoba phakathi e england
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Somebody sing hello, hello, hello
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Somebody cry why, why, why?
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Somebody sing hello, hello, hello
Somebody say ih hih ih hih ih
Somebody cry why, why, why?
Kuluman
Kulumani, kulumani sizwe
Singenze njani
Baya jabula abasi thanda yo
Ho
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Word For The Broken Hearted?
who stopped spoke to the broken hearted
gave them their scarf gloves coat in cold
inhospitable weather homeless starve in?
a minute or two of time brief fails
to warm cold flesh already shivering
'bless you' in name of Christ fails
to feed empty growling homeless bellies
and when Jesus asks when you fed
his poor will you tell stories ten thousand
plate dinner you ego shared with Obama
could have feed a few thousand homeless
instead feeding capitalist exploitation egos?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Homeless Limp Past Heartless
shifting faces echo homeless
record evicted economic woes
weather weep bitter chill turns
slept under rough shelters
as river to ice flows turns
streets empty hard homeless
lost jobs homes families hopes
were once close neighbours lives
not less human heartless eyes
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Homeless
I made a
Home -
In his heart.
He wrecked it
And rendered
Me homeless.
Now after,
Years together,
He wanders
Homeless…
And asks me:
What happened
To your heart?
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Philadelphia Revised
The sad images of Philadelphia popped out of my eyes today
And I could see the streets of Philadelphia where the homeless sleeps
And freeze to death
While Politicians, doctors, Dentists, lawyers, teachers, and nurses get rich
Day by day
But the homeless freeze to death in the streets of Philadelphia and even die
But I have to ask all of you fellow americans where is your heart?
And doesn't charity starts at home first?
Don't you have anything at home that you could give away to the Homeless so they could have something either to wear or to eat?
Why can't we feed the homeless?
I can't understand you fellow Americans?
Please put yourself in their shoes for a day and try to picture what do they Have to go throw everyday
Is it right for the homeless to sleep in the streets and freeze and eventualy Die in the streets of Philadelphia?
Would you fellow Americans go few days without eating?
I don't think so
Why should the homeless that lives in the streets of Philadelphia starve?
Fellow Americans it is time to think about others and not just yourself Because others live In America just like you
Fellow Americans do you have a heart?
Fellow Americans did you ever learned to share what you have with Others?
Fellow Americans America is a sad world because we waste 98% of our Food at home, restaurants, and supermarkets
And all that wasted food ends up in the dump
It is so ashame and so sad at the same time
But the truth is that we are running out of food
And there is not enough food to feed anyone in America
But the cost of food keeps going up
Because we have to pay the American farmers who plants the food and Transport the food to the supermarkets
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Children Should Not Have To Be Homeless
There are thousands of homeless children in Beijing in China though that is not suprising to hear
For where there is a huge population there is poverty too 'twould appear
And China to anywhere else is no different the rich getting richer they say
And just beyond the leafy suburb is the suburb of neglect and decay.
There are thousands of homeless children in New York though with that some may not agree
In America the great Land of commerce no such a thing as poverty?
But the facts of course will tell you differently and in a World of inequality
There too are children homeless and hungry in the so called Land of the free.
There are homeless children in London in England as well as in Paris in France
The poor children of the poor suburb in life they do not have a chance
Their parents in Jail for drug abuse they become the kids of the street
They search the rubbish bins for food in dark alleys and what others do throw out they eat.
There are homeless children in Sydney and Melbourne and anywhere else one might name
Though that does not seem to affect us we never reflect on our shame
That many should have to grow poorer for one to become a millionaire
In a truly egalatarian society would never be looked on as fair.
Children should not have to be homeless though born into abject poverty
They should not be punished for the sins of their parents so much for our humanity
And money to some all that matters and money is married to success
Whilst the children of the poor live homeless on the street of the No Fixed Address.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Forgotten Hungry And Homeless
The forgotten hungry and homeless nowadays to be found everywhere
There are millions of them close to a billion in the bigger World out there
The refugees of drought stricken Lands and of warlords and the homeless of Poverty Street
Basic human rights of them are denied shelter from the weather and enough for to eat
In a Human World where everyone is supposed to be equal after all we breathe in the same air
But the poor and the homeless and the hungry cannot feel that life is very fair
The minority those who are too wealthy people with too much of everything
Are people that many look up to though their praises I cannot sing,
In an egalatarian Human World everyone would have a home to live in
And nobody would be without food and well dressed and not ragged and thin
The poor by the day growing poorer and that does seem a sad thing to say
And the refugee camps of the World are all overcrowded today,
'Tis sad to think that from the poverty of many that a minority does stand to gain
And I with enough of food and shelter have no reason for to complain.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Homeless Man
I reluctantly wake up to another bleary, dreary day
To see the marks from those broken shards of glass
The anxiety, stress and anger, those desperate cries for help
Wrists throbbing, trails of blood, but still on this mortal earth
Shouting, crying at the top of my voice in my head
Those voices and screams, why why, but still left unheard
A hopeless situation in a hopeless uncaring world
Why do I carry on, I do not know
For I am the homeless man
As I walk and wait for the daily metro as the shops begin to open
Looking on as shutters go up, coffees are poured
Those enticing aromas that I can ill afford
Lost in the wilderness, trying to work things out
Confused, not understanding, just want to hide myself away
Those black clouds that are looming heavily above me
To tired to care anymore, to tired to walk, to tired to care
For I am the homeless man
I am the strange man people look at whilst sneering, jeering
Walking down the road getting on with their lives
The business men that carry on with their shallow existence
Unaware and unwilling to care
Their clockwork lives telling them to carry on
Stepping over you, shouting abuse whilst you just sit there
The mothers and children merrily off to school
Complaining because you’re in the way
Why, because I am the homeless man
I wave my hand out, only wanting some small change, begging to live
Thinking whether I will I eat today, but gone without now for so long
Do I even care whether I die or live in the uncaring world
The tall buildings that are drawing me near
Looking from the rooftops above, just one more step and it will all end
Unsure of what is stopping me taking that last plunge
Is there still a glimmer of hope, a strand from a rope to hold on too
For I am the homeless man
I am the man with hidden disabilities
No sticks or wheels to burden or for people to see
But the one in my head, the other person I hate the most
The resentment and anger I have for myself
For the person I have always long to be
Now the paved streets have turned to doors and bars
The sneers and jibes, anxiety and paranoia
What will the future hold for me, we will have to see
For I am the homeless man
So next time you walk through your town or city
On your way to school, work or leisure
And maybe you will come across a homeless man, woman or child
But do not walk past or shun away
A homeless person they may be, but humans they are too
Spare a kind thought, a handshake, or some small change
Because through some misfortune
You too could also be that homeless person
poem by Alun Jones
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Of The Selfish Side Of Humanity
Of the selfish side of Humanity I am only too aware
In a World where the self centred for the have nots one thought don't have to spare
Even in so called wealthy Democratic Countries poverty is not rare
And thousands must grow poorer for every new millionaire
So many Homeless and Stateless people in the bigger World out there
The have nots of Humanity are living everywhere
That all people are equal is born of a lie
But there is more to being Human than living for me, myself and I
In most cases those who talk of life choices do not know what they are on about
If they themselves life's necessities had never had to go without
If they themselves never lived as the homeless poor of Poor Poverty Street
Then their preaching is judgemental and their ideas are obsolete
To be born to poor parents and become Homeless is a thing that none would choose
In a Human World where for a minority to win so many have to lose.
poem by Francis Duggan
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No Way No Way Blues
I am not rich
And I can't afford to feed all the homeless in Toronto
But there is food banks that they can go and get some food to eat
So that they do'n t starve
But the homeless instead of going to the food bank they stay in the streets
Of home and begs for money at the streets of home
But I don't give money because I know that they are not going to use it for Food but they will use it to buy alcohol and destroy their liver in no Time
What ashame
And for that I say no way no way
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Take Salt Season New Meals
leaf meals taste spicy
bless mind to empty belly
spirit how leaf full briefly
transforms gift food energy
prepares meals for all souls
alone lost who homeless roam
life goes on be glad bridges
burning are not your home
take salt season new meals
for each lonely hurt traveller
pain commercial transitions
breaks breeds dream weaver
life purpose may begin in
kindness helping homeless kitten
waste rambling ways bless in
restore love in hope heart written
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Compassion And Empathy
They have so much in common compassion and empathy
And those who do possess them are blessed 'twould seem to me
For these are rare enough gifts in the Human World of today
Where many are poor and homeless and in life have lost their way
Those with empathy and compassion in words never put others down
And you never will find them amongst the judgemental of the town
They feel for the suffering of others more of their type we do need
For their kindness and generosity of spirit as good people they do succeed
Those with empathy and compassion always helping people in poverty
They help the homeless and the destitute and they help the refugee
If everyone were like them there would not be poverty and crime
And war that cause death and suffering would be of another time
But not everyone is like them which does seem sad to say
So for those with compassion and empathy let us hear the loud hooray.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Stray Dogs Lapping
stray dogs lapping
at the bloody tracks
the homeless leave in the snow.
burnt out Marlboro fingers
shaking with the cold...
small children's big eyes screaming
with silent stinking fear!
and the halls and the walls
of the traders vibrate with smoke...
nothing gained, nothing lost,
in the land of nothing....
my grandmother's Bible lays by
the stove that was never empty...
my father sits and stares at the walls,
listening for the echo of....
my mother's voice....
and all the things we believed in
are lost,
forgotten....
stray dogs lapping
at the bloody tracks
the homeless leave in the snow...
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Homelessness In Winter
back about 30 years ago,
living on the streets in Charlotte...
finally found a job... was lucky enough
to have a place to take a shower...
sleeping in the backseat of a broke
down Ford Maverick... cold winter...
got up and walked 4 miles to work
every morning,4 miles 'home' in the
evening...
went on for a couple months before
i got a place to live...
so yes i know what homelessness
feels like...and i cant help thinking
about all the empty foreclosed houses....
empty houses, homeless people....
back then, even if you couldnt find a
real job, they had a place where you
could go and line up to do day work...
worked all day for about 25 dollars...
if you couldnt do that, you could always
sell blood.... i dont know what they do
now....i just know it's a hard life...and if
you've got family, got kids...
something to think about the next time
you see a homeless person walking the
streets!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Winter Night
My window-pane is starred with frost,
The world is bitter cold to-night,
The moon is cruel, and the wind
Is like a two-edged sword to smite.
God pity all the homeless ones,
The beggars pacing to and fro,
God pity all the poor to-night
Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow.
My room is like a bit of June,
Warm and close-curtained fold on fold,
But somewhere, like a homeless child,
My heart is crying in the cold.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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The House of Christmas
There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.
For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay on their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.
A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost - how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky's dome.
This world is wild as an old wives' tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.
To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The House of Christmas
There fared a mother driven forth
Out of an inn to roam;
In the place where she was homeless
All men are at home.
The crazy stable close at hand,
With shaking timber and shifting sand,
Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand
Than the square stones of Rome.
For men are homesick in their homes,
And strangers under the sun,
And they lay on their heads in a foreign land
Whenever the day is done.
Here we have battle and blazing eyes,
And chance and honour and high surprise,
But our homes are under miraculous skies
Where the yule tale was begun.
A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know,
But our hearts we lost - how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky's dome.
This world is wild as an old wives' tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.
To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star,
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homeless
And all men are at home.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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