POEM - Soup Kitchen

Would I be here

If I was in a similar situation

Down on my luck

Homeless and downtrodden

With no pillow for my head

And no roof for my shelter?

I look for my face

Hiding in the crowd

As I dole out the shredded turkey slurry

Next to the rice in the big section of the plate

In just the right portion

I only get brief glances

Some of the patrons are expected

They play the part

Fit the expected persona

Rough around the edges

Hard lines on their face

Red weary eyes

Humble and grateful

For any kindness

Others are more problematic

Seem out of place

Less beat down

Still have a determined hope

That this is just a temporary set back

Not a way of life

I hope they are right

I hope it is infectious

That it rubs off somehow

On the more resigned of their neighbors

Before I know it my time is up

Amid a shower of “thank you”’s

I weave out through the dining hall

Across the courtyard

To the exit that is just an exit

And a door that locks behind us

Forces us to return to our lives outside

But for some that door is a sentence

That they never want to hear

Because inside it is warm

With food and a roof up above

Where if they get sick the ambulance comes

If they are sleepy there is a bed

Boredom is cured by dominoes

Loneliness by all the other huddled masses

Yearning to be free

But mostly just grateful

That tonight there is something to eat