Collaterally damaged

Lay on the graffiti sprayed park bench the homeless drug addict

pale, withered his face, stained and tattered his clothes

had he been a teacher, tradesman, bank manager

how then did he lose his way do you suppose?


Just out of prison once more, unwilling to learn lessons

physically, sexually abused in there then freed but still coping with strife

who was to care for him, have any compassion to spare for him

or would he end up on the blade of a knife?


He strolls through the bus station, looking to score again

no shortage of dealers about, more than happy to openly sell

Heroin, Cocaine Amphetamines, whatever his needs demand

to temporarily close the lid on his personal hell.


When darkness falls, finds him slumped in an empty shop doorway

syringe punctured arm by his side, drooping, his head

would you have passed by him, or stopped, let your heart cry out for him?

remembering the the words ' there but for the grace ' because you could easily be him instead! 

◄ An anti-climactic New Years day


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Wed 5th Aug 2020 10:58

👍👍👍 muchly Keith!


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keith jeffries

Wed 5th Aug 2020 10:57


I have always admired the way you don't pull your punches and this poem is an occasion in which you have excelled yourself. Every word of this poem needs to spoken out loud as it is symptomatic of a sick and uncaring society. I am highly observant when out and about. I see those you refer to and as you say, who cares?

An excellent poem which declares what good poetry is all about
Thank you for this


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