I’m weak lord, I am weak

                                                        By

                                               Jamil Barnes 

                     On the streets you see me, and yet I’m still cold.   As I look to you, so proud and bold. ‘‘hey!’’ have some compassion,  As I looked up at the man, looking down on me with his blank stare. I cringe in the corner as people walk by, because I do not exist. I’m just an Imagination that brings tears to their eye. For I have been beaten into the dust. And the well of my soul is dry. So as I lay here at the end of my life, to whom do I cry? For I have wasted away all that makes up me, for within my mind where can I flee?