I admire the hearts <br />Misery bound <br />In chains of romantic defeats, <br />Adore the broken souls <br />Gazing down lonely streets <br />Upon nothing but the silence <br />Of their own softly walking feet <br />Traveling nowhere <br />Beneath dismal grey skies <br />Of weeping, unrecognized, discouraged beauty. <br /> <br />I identify with outcast children <br />Given anxiety drugs <br />And then placed in a corner <br />Or swept under the rug, <br />And the homeless vagabonds <br />Slowly dying in the cheap wine-bottle night <br />Pacing a loveless path <br />In the terrible aftermath <br />Of the death of the American Dream. <br /> <br />Modern society has learned to transform <br />Every Jesus saint visiting the current day <br />Into weed-like annoyances to be uprooted <br />Or crushed in time by the machinery press of survival <br />Or the psychological and spiritual despair <br />Of the calendar cruelly twisting their stay <br />Into epochs of pointlessness and disregard.<br /><br />Uriah Hamilton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/every-jesus-saint/
