Down the Block
A young father sits pouting
Among children who are shouting
Looking like he would rather away.
More money, priests keep moaning
Ignoring the widow’s atoning
As she decides this is her last day.
An old man walks to and fro
He just has no place left to go
As bored teenagers push past, at play.
A young girl grows up yearning
Older man can’t resist his burning
After all, she has no place else to stay.
Injured pup yips from afar
After she’s thrown from a car
They never wanted her anyway.
Without help soon, all are lost
So few willing to bear the cost
Mere garbage, in this replace-able day.
Jeanne MacGregor Lahn
This poem was written by Jeanne Lahn on Jan 31, 2006.
No comments yet.
