Indigent Hindrance
second hand sweater swaddled
some laugh some ignore
Where is my Bottle?
Shake the ache from your head
Can you not fix yourself?
“I can not.”
said He.
“My brain’s in poor health.”
You could’ve been something great.
What does that make you now?
Primed for abuse
from society proud
Bloodshot eyes sweep shamefully
the brusque morning rush
Dingy gray nuisance
begging coins from the flush
Memories tug at his sanity
wrapped tight in regret
Where is my Bottle?
I need to forget.
Paper cup set in front
“Could you please spare some change?”
Nickels, dimes, pennies
It all stays the same.
Do not offer your help
you’ll not be absolved
Humans are Humans
Not problems to be solved.
Where’s my Bottle?
Drink to your comfort, imbibe til you’re dead
Goodbye paper change cup, goodbye concrete bed.
Invisible man
discorporated
though nobody cried
they denied
you were hated.
About the Creator
C.J. Jaye
Queer, neurodivergent poetess (occasional author of short fiction)...creating magical works from her home office (kitchen table) in upstate New York. Certified riding Instructor, horse and dog lover...Thriving despite mental illness.
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