wandering the streets
of what seems to be
a never ending nightmare
the ruins of a once flourishing life
remind me of my childhood
when there was still a place to go
when i had a small corner to sleep in
even that was taken away
now even the torn sheets
i used to hide in
have disappeared
and i am exposed to the hyaenas
the only living things
still inhabiting this godforsaken place
there won't ever be
a place to call 'home'
in this urban hell of destruction
.
Comments
-
Great one, so deep, showing emotion.
I had to think of The Lion King, reading this one. Simba is chased down, and should never come back again. There's no such thing as "home" anymore. But he returns. Always think of that.
There's this little spark of hope.
Don't give up, because when you give up on yourself, you give up on life.
Jo
-
An excellent piece! 'Home' can never be overrated. We all need some place of protection from the troubles of society. Lots of depth and feeling in this.
Gaylene
-
Reminds me...
The story of the 'lil girl you were concerned about comes to mind as I read this poem. 
If I were homeless I do not know what I would do. Fine writing, Annie.
-
great write lil cuz
xxx cheeky xxx
Adding your comment:
