This is written about the many homeless gentleman I have encountered. I always wonder what their life was and what brought them to the place they are now at. I came up with this poem from today’s prompt of a spaceship name,. The spaceship name I chose is No Fixed Abode
No Fixed Abode
What did he used to be a king, a soldier, a father, a son, or was he just like me?
Hair looks as if birds will burst from it like a nest in a very old tree
Was it once trimmed and tamed and heavy with brillo cream?
His face a cragged and broken map of all the hardships he has seen
Did he used to glow with the glory of youth and the promise of his life unseen?
Cloths a tattered, dirty, and ripe smelling mess that hang from his boney frame
Was this once an outfit he wore with great pride when it was crisp and clean?
Invisible to those who pass him in the doorway of an abandoned old brownstone
Did this used to be the old man’s home, his castle where his children may have grown?
Now he is just another pile of shit to avoid being stepped in, by those who pass him by.
Was he once a man of confidence who drew all the ladies eyes?
Shoes scuffed and stuffed with newspaper where the soles are worn away
Did they once shine, as he waltzed a maiden fine, holding her in his sway?
Intelligence, pain, loss, and sadness are revealed in the rheumy eyes of this disregarded man who hangs his head in shame
What brought him here to a world where he exists as nothing more than a piece of trash to be swept away by the rain?