Your Poetry Dot Com - Street People

Array ( [sid] => 24173 [catid] => 1 [aid] => Mick [title] => Street People [time] => 2003-10-01 07:35:00 [hometext] => People you over look it could be you [bodytext] => What is the day that gives
to life the yearn of sleep
I think it is a crippled man
begging on the street

What is the night that sleeps
to ease all the poets’ pain
I think it is the dope
that fills the fool's brain

Who stops to listen to
music soft and sweet
I think it is
the children of the street

Who controls the weary souls
fallen by the road
I think it is the man
who owns the all the gold

what can be done to solve
this life's true history
I think the slave is not the only one
Who struggles to be free

What steps will be taken
to clear the pathway
I think many hide
in the light of day

When trouble knocks
upon the common door
I think all types of vermin
crawl out of cracks in the floor

Still life finds a way
even the lowest soul
smiles through love and light
given freely each and every day [comments] => 4 [counter] => 251 [topic] => 43 [informant] => Walt [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Street People

Street People
Date: Wednesday, 1st October 2003 @ 07:35:00 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Walt

What is the day that gives
to life the yearn of sleep
I think it is a crippled man
begging on the street

What is the night that sleeps
to ease all the poets’ pain
I think it is the dope
that fills the fool's brain

Who stops to listen to
music soft and sweet
I think it is
the children of the street

Who controls the weary souls
fallen by the road
I think it is the man
who owns the all the gold

what can be done to solve
this life's true history
I think the slave is not the only one
Who struggles to be free

What steps will be taken
to clear the pathway
I think many hide
in the light of day

When trouble knocks
upon the common door
I think all types of vermin
crawl out of cracks in the floor

Still life finds a way
even the lowest soul
smiles through love and light
given freely each and every day

This poem is Copyright ยฉ Walt

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