i am

i am

i am that man you won’t sit next to
on a crowded bus or subway train, those awful filthy infected machines.
i am covered with shags for clothes and soles of what were shoes, now
repaired
with duct tape.
i am empty within, while full on your leftovers, rotten and contaminated “meals”
my family has disappeared and my friends have disserted me, my stench and appearance are shunned.
i am longing
for full plates of fragrant fruits and nourishing
vegetables, instead of sour unknowns and fish bones.
i am sleeping outside by wet molded boxes and lost pets
i am cursed to retire to the alley after my bits of your leftovers and am surrounded by your   
neighborhood’s fear and crime
i am someone’s son,
but have brought shame to my father.
i am a statistic the government claims to be helping, “this many off the streets,” “this many housed,” and “this many employed,” but I am
still without shelter.

I am homeless.

i am hopeless due to my failed dreams, failed company, failed household, failed marriage and my mis-educations,
i am lifeless in my eyes due to your stares that blame, judge and analyze me.
i am dead in my skin, now
leathery and weathered by the sun
  and the smog that you produce from your fancy shiny cars.
i am alone, you choose to stay away from
what you do not know, only because 
  you have not learned anything from your empty text books.

I am human and need to feel
Humane.