The asphalt receives them with open arms
But it is only warm when it doesn’t need to be.
You can see them, if you really care to look.
Most do not.
And so, their numbers grow.
Like shadows, they drift at the edge of society’s conscience
But conscience is a funny thing, and I do not purport to know the trivial actions that can easily assuage it.
And so, the silent army grows.
Inhabiting the nooks and crannies of our cities.
Some of them are ancient, and some of them are still swaddled, screaming out their legions misery.
But conscience is a funny thing
#firstpiecewrittenfornewopsia
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