dreams breed tentacles
spread through cardboard lined on concrete
dawn reminds us our coloring is off

the tingle returns
green mucus off eyes
breath comes in clouds

cold promise
penetrates the green army cloth
grating skin hard

against black &
white pressed shirts
smiles with firm handshakes

silk scarves
stilettos click clock
charity circles

is anyone happy
asks the man in the box
eyes towards the sky

Your language gets increasing beautiful, Freddy, in last 3 stanzas. Your contrast is sharp. Man's final question is poignant at the level of his psychology as well as pointing toward the abstraction by which we measure ourselves. Tom

Freddy, this is good, with your descriptions very meaningful and accurate.  The last verse throws me a bit but I'm thinking it fits well with the poem.

wonderful job,
cheryl

@Tom - thanks, i hope to convey the experience of waking up on the street & the disinterest of how the rest of society on what occurs. sometimes i don't use enough words so please let me know.

@Cheryl - Glad you like it, I'll work on adding another line or something to tie it in.

Appreciate your feedback.

-Freddy

Hi Freddy. What I particularly like about this poem is the approach that accords dignity to 'the man in the box'. So much writing on such subjects aren't so discerning. Excellent.

Cheers

milner

A pick.

milner

Awesome! Thank you :)

Freddy,  great to find a fresh voice and once that writes in such vivid colours. Something in your last s reminds me of Wilde's famous lines about we're all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars.

Fine work.

k

Thanks Kevin, for reading & for your comments. :)