Array ( [sid] => 179617 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Cardboard Sonnet [time] => 2014-11-08 23:37:24 [hometext] => Silence is consent. [bodytext] => Everyday I see you standing;
On the corner you’re commanding;
Waving cardboard signs before me;
“I am homeless”; don’t ignore me!

Wish to God you weren’t there;
A hope I’ve come to doubt you share.
When you go, there’ll come another;
Same old story; different cover.

You are not, I must admit,
My vision of a "derelict";
I see you write and spell and talk;
Stand all day and climb and walk;

Wave and smile and ride your bike;
Eat your lunch way out of sight.
Yet you live outside the lines;
A social rebel by design!

I wonder by what right you claim;
This corner in your nameless name?
The taxes others pay to keep;
A stage from which you count your sheep.

How much will you make today;
From those who give their hard won pay?

Perhaps you’d be as swift to label;
Were the fates to turn the tables.

Just one time what you would do;
Were I to hold a sign at you?

Stopped here in your intersection;
Stretch my palm in your direction.

“I Know a Man Who Has No Shoes;
Please Will you Help? And God Bless You”

Would you share your daily pan?
Trust me that I knew this man?

I wonder too did you displace;
A lesser man to have this space?
Cause no one panhandles in twos!
(Sharing doesn’t work for you!)

Your stock and trade/'/s a one-way street:
I give, you take---exchange complete.

It’s true, most have more than you do;
But that does not entitle you!

You’ll do alright; but not by me;
I want you off the street you see.

Forgive me if I’m unforgiving;
Begging sir, is not a living.
I will not dishonor you;
By throwing you a bone or two.

There is greatness in your soul;
Half a life that could be whole!
Instead of crumbs to make you stay;
I want to see you walk away!

Cause though we’re different; We’re the same;
Face to face, without a name.
Strangers at a stop sign we;
Five days a week at half past three. [comments] => 12 [counter] => 2263 [topic] => 21 [informant] => softerware [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Cardboard Sonnet


Cardboard Sonnet
Date: Saturday, 8th November 2014 @ 11:37:24 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: softerware
Everyday I see you standing;
On the corner you’re commanding;
Waving cardboard signs before me;
“I am homeless”; don’t ignore me!

Wish to God you weren’t there;
A hope I’ve come to doubt you share.
When you go, there’ll come another;
Same old story; different cover.

You are not, I must admit,
My vision of a "derelict";
I see you write and spell and talk;
Stand all day and climb and walk;

Wave and smile and ride your bike;
Eat your lunch way out of sight.
Yet you live outside the lines;
A social rebel by design!

I wonder by what right you claim;
This corner in your nameless name?
The taxes others pay to keep;
A stage from which you count your sheep.

How much will you make today;
From those who give their hard won pay?

Perhaps you’d be as swift to label;
Were the fates to turn the tables.

Just one time what you would do;
Were I to hold a sign at you?

Stopped here in your intersection;
Stretch my palm in your direction.

“I Know a Man Who Has No Shoes;
Please Will you Help? And God Bless You”

Would you share your daily pan?
Trust me that I knew this man?

I wonder too did you displace;
A lesser man to have this space?
Cause no one panhandles in twos!
(Sharing doesn’t work for you!)

Your stock and trade/'/s a one-way street:
I give, you take---exchange complete.

It’s true, most have more than you do;
But that does not entitle you!

You’ll do alright; but not by me;
I want you off the street you see.

Forgive me if I’m unforgiving;
Begging sir, is not a living.
I will not dishonor you;
By throwing you a bone or two.

There is greatness in your soul;
Half a life that could be whole!
Instead of crumbs to make you stay;
I want to see you walk away!

Cause though we’re different; We’re the same;
Face to face, without a name.
Strangers at a stop sign we;
Five days a week at half past three.

This poem is Copyright © softerware


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