by Kimberly Richardson

Created on: November 13, 2009

Seven black homeless men

Sit on a corner stoop,

Waiting for the day to begin.

Their scarred faces

Tell various stories of loves

And reunions,

Of disappointments and failures,

What they could have been

And what they turned into.

They sit like pensive crows,

Viewing the world with

Blackened archaic eyes.

They receive no respect

Only wary glances from afar

And still they sit, waiting

For the sun to finally set.

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