In back streets dark, cold and wet <br />Forgotten figures in corners slept <br />Ragged figures of human debris <br />Regrets and rats for company <br /> <br />Cardboard city land of the lost <br />Afraid of the living, in fear of the frost <br />Surviving on wits a day at a time <br />Circumstance their only crime <br /> <br />If fate decreed that they should die <br />In passing without a single cry <br />Alone for company only fear <br />Who alone would shed a tear? <br /> <br />There by fate, and not by choice <br />Souls in torment, with common voice <br />Drunks and addicts, so absurd <br />Vanish daily, their pleas unheard <br /> <br />So spare a thought as you sit to dine <br />Gulp your beer, or sip your wine <br />Things taken for granted, as we often do <br />But for the grace of God, it could be you.<br /><br />Graham Jones<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cardboard-city/
