Forgotten % Growing
by Odin Roark

Haves.
Have nots.

Selfish.
Impoverished.

Some finding storefront sanctuaries.
Salvation this.
Salvation that.
People in need.

Existence.
Dumpsters.
Trash cans.
Soup lines.
Cardboard blankets.

Eat.
Sleep.
Out of one box, into another.
Routine nightmares, perpetual.

Estranged hunched over life.
Avoided by family,
best friends,
acquaintances,
even favorite enemies.

Hard fought dreams teeter.

Busy, busy.
Stringing guitars on Mars.
Searching for Zeus in empty power drink cans.
Trying to understand their plight,
finding a place in line,
ignoring the reality of unreality,
scratching heads for something alive.

Anything.
Just something alive.,

For…

Suffocation cells stay dank,
caged in sweat-stained bars prisoner relief,
hell-fire orange light,
waste-filled air,
while fear hoses the floor,
despair wipes the walls.

And yet…

Squeezed in society's petri dish
this smallest % remains a truth wanting to be discovered.
Hard to contain,
poised to ooze out,
growing larger beyond choice
remaining a microscopic presence
in the conscience of the unconscious..

Such remains the forgotten %...
painfully growing.