Homeless Study

Hanging about, sucked into the cycle of loss Deleted from the family file They spiral down like moths with burned wings Down and out from the safety of all that's normal In plain sight, those children of the dark They beg in a sparkling city of granite spires, A city of ships and some remnants of power Of silver terraces, of crowded malls, Charity stalls. Most beggars are young, No rags, suspicions of drugs drives The footsteps to pass on the street Such misery appals The North wind rises and falls, Between the city's chillyrain-dark walls. The beggars huddle at the city's feet; Soon cruise liners will come from the steel grey sea Will their passengers pass the shadows at the doors Hungry and Homeless, the pressing voice implores In the graveyard, folk feed pigeons scattering bread Beneath the cathedral's eaves The beggars sit amongst the whirling leaves No alms to be got from the dead A young girl beggar shuts her eyes and shivers What struck her off the family visiting list? To each, a different story, a different cause The old one with his clutching, filthy claws Thousands of footsteps pass by in the rain Reluctant to take on another's pain The broken lives limp on from stance to stance And will they score today?There's still a chance The wind kicks leaves against the shopping walls The beggar sleeps. At a last a silence falls.