Albert Hamilton

By sonnyjambo - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Monday, February 18, 2008

Poem

Homeless The word itself is cold, and hard like the street, where there's no place to stay and not much to eat. I met a man, called 'homeless' they say, when winter is cold at night and in day, He had little to wear, and no place to sleep, but he complained not, nor did he weep, His story, like his... Sign in to see full entry.

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