“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