Raging grief casts aside
                                  my certainty, the nightmarish
                                  dethroning of a lifetime.
                                  I’m homeless and banished
                                  to castaway-cluttered streets
                                  where faith is nothing
                                  more than the preferred
                                  word to disguise my
                                  anguish when confronted
                                  with the torment of living
                                  my darkest fears.

                                                            I’m surrounded by
                                                           dystopian dramas and
                                                           self-inflicted agony.

                                   Street noise intensifies at
                                   nightfall, trying to get
                                   rest in this improvised
                                   tent—my shredded
                                   sleeping bag offers little
                                   comfort against the bartered
                                   cardboard boxes flattened
                                   into a gravel plagued
                                   asphalt bed.

                                   Every dawn imputes
                                   my dignity, earliest risers
                                   are first in line to score
                                   a handout breakfast, and
                                   staking prime turf for
                                   begging pocket change,
                                   avoiding eye contact with
                                   glaring scowls tacitly
                                   offered by morning rush
                                   passersby.

                                                             So unaware they're
                                                             never further than three
                                                             heartbeats from joining me.

                                    The next moments, days, or
                                    weeks are never at a distance.
                                    The present circumstance is
                                    only a prelude to my future
                                    state—a scrap of cosmic
                                    kismet will realign a
                                    thousand of my destinies.