“ We The Homeless ” – not by choice – revisited

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“ We The Homeless ”

       – not by choice – revisited

It’s not by choice,

We’ve but the street

For our new host,

In this life gone bleak

It be thus a last resort,

Begs we’d not seek

Wanting as consort,

Held so to speak

Apt be a gritty ghost,

Led we live incomplete

Having lost one’s voice,

Mindful of our fate

Now being without choice,

In a discombobulated state

That be life on the street,

The while this last resort

Be until we are too weak,

To drag our bones to port

In a life of empty options,

That be for we the homeless,

Held fixed to muted notions

Reduced we be to nameless,

Drifting in crowded sad seclusion

We’ve to live as shadows on the street…

 

Suffer alas said we the homeless

In a populous fashioned by human apathy,

Offered in overwhelming abundance

To a growing number of ignored failed voices…

 

We the homeless, not by choice!

 

                                     © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                         Photography, by Marianne Dessis –

                                                              Music, by Kai Engel –

 

“ We The Homeless ” – not by choice –

It’s not by choice,

We’ve but the street

For our new host,

In this life gone bleak

It be thus a last resort,

Begs we’d not seek

Wanting as consort,

Held so to speak

Apt be a gritty ghost,

Led we live incomplete

Having lost one’s voice,

Mindful of our fate

Now being without choice,

In a discombobulated state

That be life on the street,

The while this last resort

Be until we are too weak,

To drag our bones to port

In a life of empty options,

That be for we the homeless,

Held fixed to muted notions

Reduced we be to nameless,

Drifting in crowded sad seclusion

We’ve to live as shadows on the street…

 

Suffer alas said we the homeless

In a populous fashioned by human apathy,

Offered in overwhelming abundance

To a growing number of ignored failed voices…

 

We the homeless, not by choice!

 

                                                          © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

 

 

“ A Distant Voice ” ~ that beckons ~

I hear a cry

Tormented so,

Tears by the by

Do leave a wake

Of such dismay,

Mind has need

To find a way,

If but to still

A distant voice,

Whose forlorn cry

Allays not beckon,

Into the night

Its waning words

In dismal plight,

Wants restore whole

Thus begs relight,

Man’s dark lost soul!

“ While I Live ” ~ to not forget ~

 

The while I live,

Help me now

To not forget,

Afore I reach

I’m not to feel

Being near,

Or ever more

Able to hear

A voice so dear,                                                             

Nor taste again

The love of you,

The while I muse

Be cause regret,

Precious days

I might neglect,

To tell of ways

I loved you then,

The while I lived

This side of when,

Till I should reach

That quite place!