The Gutter

[truthsparked]

Grub along each gutter
Pennies tight in fist
Cigarettes butts half smoked
How did it come to this?

Peel through life’s trash left
Discarded without thought
Maybe a treasure here
Or the scrounge will be for naught.

Bread and milk to buy
A nickel here and there
The search goes on and on and on
While people stop and stare.

Beneath a full moon laid to rest
In a velvet bed of stars
Hung above a bus stop sign
Outside a string of bars.

The weary walk this earth, my friend
The tragedy is all around
Take the moment to check ourselves
‘Lest in this gutter you be found.

[Coapachy]

This resonated with me very much. With my house close to re-possession and being out of work for nearly one year now, it is a place I soon might find myself! People think, like I did, that it could never happen to you, but the proof is sadly all around us in this day, and it breaks my heart. The euphoria of finding a pound coin the other day was like winning the lottery, for me, that was the milk for my tea and a packet of rizlas....I won't tell you how I get the tobacco. Your poem is wonderfully written, I was so engrossed it is only now that I realise that it contains a wonderfully flowing rhyme. A great piece, bravo to you.

Dave

[Zero&Ace]

This hits home with me as well. I seriously must take heed. Good piece I like it.

[truthsparked]

Thank you both, for making me smile. :)

[Chelle]

I have to say I am so glad I picked this poem for the spotlight. Not only is it a true picture of the struggle many are in right now, but it's also individually poignant. One minute we can high on the hill and the next be digging for scraps with the rest.