My Homeless Angel

He emerged from out of nowhere
We were magnetically drawn
Our spirits tangled the tale of two paths
I the chosen one
He the homeless son

We broke bread
Shared stories of our past

We laughed
then yawned
Parted ways with the break of dawn
A look back
He was gone

Intertwined by the strength of commonality
Praised for my tenacity
Outcast for his criminality

In reality
We were more the same than not
Two strings
Our souls
Formed the knot that binds
He possessed the soul of our ancestors
Who climbed mountains
His blood flowed deep like mine
Two people from the same fountain

Two examples of the effect of strife
Two spirits trapped and confined
Two people too short on time

We conversed on his experience
growing up in the “City of Dope”
His childhood dreams
How things don’t always go
As planned
The hard rock life
His struggled journey of becoming a man

Coming up
In a community that lent me a hand

His bouts with addiction
Prison past
The pain of the infliction of racism
The duality of life
In one world with contradictory rules

Given respect

The immorality of neglect
The pain of living
But I could see in his eyes
His soul had not been broken yet

The fight of a courageous spirit trying to rise
A life force slowly draining with each
That passes by
Hurt and alone on the streets
Downtrodden by his peers
Unprotected by the city
Harassed by the cops walking the crooked beat

I never understood before
Two paths
Two lives
Two souls
Two minds
Two divided by one line
Two human beings
Too short on time
Two apples of the same kind
Two people
You and me
Fallen from branches
Two different sides of one tree
Two different stories
One destiny
Two souls meeting at the crossroads of


About Sean King

Husband, Father, Writer, Philosopher, Humanitarian

Posted on June 7, 2011, in Poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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