Comes The Dawn

Comes the dawn.
Comes the pain of another day.
Comes the loneliness,
and the long walks,
alone,
in a city of a million people,
on sidewalks,
with their evenly spaced cracks,
and cigarette butts,
and chewing gum,
and spit,
and dirt.
Comes the seeing other people.
Comes the seeing couples,
hand in hand.
Comes seeing the love in their eyes,
the warmth in their touch,
the happiness,
and the dreams,
the carelessness with which they laugh,
the carefreeness in their walk.
Comes the frustration,
and the hopelessness.
Comes the still burning,
but dying fires of anger.
Comes the defiance.
Comes the hatred.
Comes the crying,
and dying,
inside.
Comes the night,
and the security of the dark's blanket,
that hides,
and protects.
Comes the cowering,
and the huddling in the darkest corner,
where two buildings meet,
at the rear of a vacant lot,
littered with glass,
and cans,
and other trash.
Comes the chill,
and the rain,
the fitful sleep,
the dreams.
Comes the wishing.
Comes the praying.
Comes the putrid smell of alcoholic breath.
And finally comes,
"Oh God, let me die."
Comes the dawn.
Comes the pain of another day.
Comes the loneliness,
and the long walks,
alone,
in a city of a million people,
on sidewalks,
with their evenly spaced cracks…


W. James Beard, Jr.