Who are these people
with rags hanging from their brows
and frowns upon their shins?
These people that crowd around
holding each other's hands and
trying to stand?
Who are these people?
and why must they cry..
dripping sadness in to the streets
Sending bitter hatred in to the sky
and longing
the painful, empty longing...

Hard to the touch,
he drips poverty from his rags and it
oozes down
to scurry across the pavement and
touch my toes to remind me of
my broken shoes

Who are we?