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Homeless

Posted by ⋅ ⋅ 5 Comments
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You tell me that love has no home in your heart, because it tore your decorated walls of trust apart.

Distorted your beautiful flowers that you planted with passion, while the soil overflow with tears.

The fabric that you also call your skin has been unstitched, bruised and color fading.

Pieces of glass lie scattered on the carpet from the broken window, that has now distorted your view to see clear.

The pantry that once had food for your soul is empty with residue of pessimistic that the pest feed on.

The bathroom mirror shows a reflection of a person that resembles you; animation of a princess, but when the sun sets you’ve fallen in love with Shrek and your new name is Fiona, unattractive and love is the blame.

You tell me you could care less of love being homeless, walking the streets of broken attempts, falling weak of loneliness.

You even said that love could be sleeping under a bridge and you still wouldn’t give a shit.

But I question you and say what if love got hit by a bus full of passengers seeking it? What if love was trying to catch you again as you fall?…

and what if love was a puzzle that is trying to find the pieces to put itself back together?

What if love was me? Now I’m homeless!

About nelvinray2010

My life revolves around me in images of myself; my mind produces extraordinary emotions that are buried deep within thick layers of flesh. My heart pumps as a percussion producing music of my soul, which release feelings beyond belief. The only cure from this infection that drains me as the ocean drowns the rocks, is to make the world my wife, and rename her earth, then romance or love her, then I can create a culinary masterpiece, a dish, I named: poetic thoughts..

Discussion

5 Responses to “Homeless”

  1. Rich. Colorful. TRUTHFUL words! What if love (God/Jesus) was you? And to top it all off you are homeless. We walk past each other in such a haste, never once realizing that rather than you [the one not homeless] being a blessing, I [the one that is homeless] could be the real blessing. The one to mend your heart. The one to make you love the way God loves you. The one to make you see what Tupac once said…that “we were given this world, we didn’t make it”.
    I really enjoyed this piece, because I am always talking with my brothers and sisters on the street. people walk past and laugh…and I look at them and pray.

    Bella

    Posted by Bella Grace | September 5, 2012, 5:47 pm
    Reply to this comment

  2. Like the metaphors used in the poem…enjoyed the poem.

    Posted by slpmartin | September 5, 2012, 9:53 pm
    Reply to this comment

  3. Reblogged this on http://www.AntiNewWorldOrderParty.com Blog! and commented:
    Homeless [ No Title ]

    Posted by Daniel Leach | September 6, 2012, 12:39 am
    Reply to this comment

  4. A beautiful poem, truly. Thank you. You are a fine poet.

    Posted by mfitzhill | November 12, 2012, 12:19 am
    Reply to this comment

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  1. Pingback: Down and Out in Cluj-Napoca | Eye on Romania | Ochiul pe România - September 16, 2012

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