A Poem by Chelsea

A poem for the homeless, and reaching out to them.




Stranded across the streets

An outstretched hand to passing people

Hoping for the feel of a weighted coin


Pays any attention

Except to shoot them a disgusted look

As if they were some vile disease

Or a piece of junk

Rotting away in your poverty

No chance, now, to far gone

You live in the streets

Your clothes no more than shredded rags

Your hair shiny with grease

A crusty person, shunned away

Nobody has the heart

To reach out to you,

Grab hold of your fallen self

Lift you from this place of darkness

Take my hand

I’ll pull you from this

Into the light


© 2011 Chelsea

Author's Note

Homeless people have always had a soft spot in my heart. I hate the way people treat them, as if they were trash. They’re equal to us, they just need help. So I write a poem about it. Please review.
Not my picture----

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register

Featured Review

Look at you, taught well by the book. It's our job to help the meek and homeless...but they'll inherit the heavens anyway so in turn by helping them we help ourselves.
This poem makes you remember that just because you throw a coin into somone's hand you did not do your part, you gave a part.

Helping someone UP is the answer, not just a band aid for a bleeding ulcer.

SOmetimes i feel like being positive when I read your stuff, then I remember that I'm half that b*****d you just described in the poem.

Hardy har har
here's to the greasy hair and dirty clothed

Posted 7 Years Ago

2 of 2 people found this review constructive.


Yah, a great poem in its message and spirit. I read Coyote's work and now yours and now I feel that I really should do something about this..Spread the goodness..Great job..

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

[send message][befriend] Subscribe
just the fact that you notice is something, and that you write that emotion is even greater..thank you.

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I don't know. I believe we must insure all people have a safe place to live and food to eat. This is a hard problem. Two years ago. My neighbor lost her job and home. I took her daughter in for the summer till she had a place to live again. It was hard on the poor young girl. Here in Michigan. Big business decided to lower wages and the problem the bill are getting higher. A lot of good people are losing everything. I live in one of the better counties in Michigan. There was 623 kids without a address. Which means there were homeless. We live in a world where a government like the USA can spend 1.2 trillion on war and cut the music departments at schools. The greatest wealth of any country is the children. You wrote a powerful poem. You made me think again.

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Great poem! As the middle class of the world is eroded and the gap between the rich and the poor widens this is something we will see more of.
We are all basically street people that have family or friends or partners to help us through the rough times. We as a people do indeed avoid situations that make us feel uncomfortable, thus we turn the other way when passing people in despair.

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This was a very descriptive work, you really painted a nice picture of homelessness from an onlooker's perspective.

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

I loved this poem. I was a cashier in a grocery store in the evenings, while I completed an internship during the day. We had homeless people come in all of the time to by bread, canned soup. They were really sweet. Some nights I felt so bad for them. Great poem.

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

It is disgusting how many people in the United States are homeless, and with no money to feed themselves. I can remember walking through the steets of Manhattan, NY and seeing people who are homeless sleeping on benches, or the cold concrete. All people have to do is lend a hand to other people in need. For it is what they are asking for, and who knows one person may walk up to a homeless person and even the smallest thing they do for them might change their life. Very well written. Great Work!!!

-Fredric Cilbrith III

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Just correcting your grammar: "to far gone" should really be "too far gone". Not trying to be rude, just trying to help. Besides that, I really like this poem because I can relate to wanting to help a homeless person, becuase you never really know how they got there. Sure, maybe he was a meth addict, but he also could've been a victim of the Recession or something as innocent as that.
I also like how at the end you care enough to offer a helping hand. Good poem, I really did enjoy this. (Thank you!)

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

And the truth of the matter is we really don't know.....that person on the corner could be a deadbeat, someone stuck in addiction, or just someone down on their luck through no fault of there own. "Judge not....." has always seemed wise to me.....though, sadly, I have also learned to be cautious because there are dangers out there. :/ You have a good heart, and you've expressed it well.

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Living in the land of the homeless, I see too many that won't help themselves, so I can't share your sentiment, except for those whose misfortune is beyond their capabilities. But I can still enjoy the passion in your writing and it definitely shines forth in this post.

Posted 7 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


24 Reviews
Shelved in 2 Libraries
Added on January 14, 2011
Last Updated on January 14, 2011
Tags: homeless, beggar, stranded, outstreched, hand, people, coin, nobody, attention, disgusted, disease, junk, poverty, streets, shredded, rags, grase, crusty, fllen, pull




Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance. - Carl Sandburg Hello! Thank you for checkin’ out my page on the café! My name is Chelsea or Chels. I’m fifteen years old, your .. more..

Gun in School Gun in School

A Story by Chelsea

Related Writing

People who liked this story also liked..

Dancing Dancing

A Poem by Chelsea

Shattered Echoes Shattered Echoes

A Poem by OT

The Last Waltz The Last Waltz

A Poem by Muse