Seeds of Darkness (poem) by D L Johnson on AuthorsDen

Seeds of Darkness
by D L Johnson → (All Poetry by D L Johnson)
Rated "PG" by the Author.

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A poetic commentary on this life's dirty little mess, called homelessness!
Seeds of Darkness Dan Johnson © 2004 There are in seasons of darkness Souls that flounder and fall in the starkness Of the night trying to make sense,Out of this life’s mess. He falls asleep on the corner, Others will walk around so as not to stir his slumber. She pushes her cart just out of the crosswalk, But she knows the anger, the voices, how they talk, These are the seeds of Darkness Souls that flounder through the starkness of the night, trying to make sense, out of this life’s mess. We see them in their plight Thanking god we had a better night They see us in our suits wishing they were us…but then, These are the seeds of Darkness Souls that flounder through the starkness of the night, trying to make sense, out of this life’s mess. Some live in their cars, Others sleep behind bars, waiting for another taste. All the time their lives go to waste… because these are the seeds of Darkness, souls that flounder through the starkness Of the night, trying to make sense,out of this life’s mess. A week, month, year ago, They were like you and me, Held a job, paid their bills, but minimum wage for six certainly kills…then These became the seeds of Darkness, Souls that flounder through the starkness of the night, just trying to make sense,out of this life’s mess. Dan Johnson

Reviewed by m j hollingshead

Reviewed on June 18, 2007

well done

Reviewed by Flying Fox Ted L Glines (Reader)

Reviewed on March 1, 2007

Welcome aboard, Dan! We're getting a few Art With Words authors out here now, and we will have more as time goes on. My column this time will be featuring interactivity on this and three other (MSN) sites. I like "Seeds," and I have always had a soft place in my heart for the homeless people (we saw many of them in southern California). They ranged from Vietnam vets who had dropped out on purpose, to women who were on the streets with their kids. I helped when I could and went through the frustration of "there's not enough of me to help everybody." Still, helping is better than doing nothing. Good poem, Dan!

Ted