Homeless Man, Dead in Downtown Grand Rapids

The sidewalk was sketched by his starved skeleton,
his face, caked with dryness, peeling,
his face had pain written through the veins
in his cold dark eyes, eyes that stared
through his eyelids, searching for a breath,
a gust of life to fill his speechless heart,
his lips, open, welked and scabbed, as if
his last words weren’t enough,
his raw skin, suspended by his bones,
stomach sunk in by grumbles of hunger,
his home; a bubblegum stamped sidewalk, walls
decorated with graffiti, and trashcans trampled over, spilled.
He lay there, sprawled across the ground, hand
outstretched, holding a package of cheese crackers,
uneaten, as if he were too weak to feast.
His lonely spirit wanders down the street, creeping
through alleys, glaring, tortured, his hands
shaking up to the sun, yearning to be freed from the
concealing pain from the throb of the breath taken
from his throat.
I stand there, eyes gaped, stunned as I look at whom he was
and whom he left behind.

Through the 3rd Eye was supported in its inception by the Grand Rapids Humanities Council and is currently made possible by continued volunteer effort and private support. Copyright 2013.