“As you walk past”

I’m poor and needy,

These hands dirty and greedy,

My clothes are old and worn,

unto poverty I was born,

I fight every day that I take breath,

I’ll keep fighting even until death,

I walk among shadows and I remain unseen,

The rich are death and blind it would seem,

Crime becomes a need to survive, or act upon

My thoughts of suicide,

People ask why I live

This way, I shake

My head not knowing what to say,

Do you know me? and do you even care?

Questions I ask as you walk past like I’m not even there,

Your world and mine are 2 different places,

As you walk past my face is just another among many faces.

By: Wallace Eubanks