Running on Empty
A poem
Published in
Feb 28, 2024
Frayed seams and thin soles,
holes that let the cold seep in,
patchwork coats worn threadbare
and rumbling hunger pangs.
No fuel for the body’s engine
running on empty dreams.
Coins slipping through holes
in pockets, with gaping mouths
always wanting, never filled.
Hard surfaces for restless sleep,
no pillows for weary heads,
just concrete for bones that ache.
Rattling cups hoping for coins,
outstretched hands looking for care,
but seeing eyes slide on past.
Judgment lurking in sideways glances,
unheard stories buried in hunched shoulders.
Missed chances to know their names,
and aching feet that walk alone.
Tears leaving clean tracks down dirty cheeks,
just quiet cries in the city’s din.
