Union Street

Let's go down to Union Street
and watch as the destitute people meet
around barrels brimming with green despair
fidgeting nervously while we just stare
as each in turn must dip his cup
lift it to his quivering lips and drink it up.

On Union Street the barrels overflow,
so we'll see many rounds before we go,
and then it will be time to leave them behind
and walk through an exit they will never find.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem