A million plagues upon our land.
Is someone there to reach a hand?
Out to the desperate, down and out
'Til they have strength to chose their route.

A lonely vagrant gives up the fight,
An endless tunnel, he saw no light.
"Oh good!", they say, "That's one more gone."
"One less to spend our taxes on."

A woman-child sells her wares,
Attacked and used, does no one care?
"So what!?", they think, "She's just a whore."
"Not like she's worth much more."

They line the streets, the alleyways,
Suffering silently, night and day.
Invisible to all but a few passing by,
It matters not if they live or die.

A rich man fought that same bleak fight
As the vagrant who could not see the light.
Just two junkies,worlds apart.
Different class; Same broken heart.

Fancy cars, designer dope,
Or under freeways, devoid of hope.
Makes no difference at the end of the line;
The ride will end, just a matter of time.

©Khaos WolfKat 1996