The man with no name
Lies on the cold, cold ground
The man who has no home
The man who has nothing
To them he’s just a statistic
Only a number
To me he is a person
A friend I’ve never met
People shield their eyes
As they walk by
They do not care
They don’t want to know
He lays there for a while
Too cold,
Too numb,
To move
People waltz around him
And little children laugh
The laughter makes me weep
His flushed face
Turns snow white
And the ambulance arrives
A while too late
“How long has he been there?”
“A little over a week.”
They zip up the body
And about their business
They go
That someone
Became no one
Unclaimed
And unloved
Another John Doe
Tagged
And buried
He was my friend
Though we’ve never met
I could be him.
Author
Discover more from X|DEADLUCKY|X
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.